


High Tide

by magisterpavus



Series: How To Train Your Galra [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Aliens, Anal, Begging, Best Date Ever, Body Worship, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marking, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Blood, Nesting, Oral Sex, Pheromones, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Protective Keith (Voltron), Riding, Rough Sex, Scars, Sex Pollen, Sex Toys, Switching, Truth or Dare, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Water Sex, basically they're gross and adorable and i'm gonna miss these two, keith finally learns how to boyfriend, keith goes full galra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9090550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterpavus/pseuds/magisterpavus
Summary: “It’s a gift,” Lance murmured. “I thought you needed something to cheer you up.”Keith licked his lips, eyes still huge. “What…what’s the gift?”“Me,” Lance said, and witnessed the shudder that went through Keith’s entire body. “You can do whatever you want to me, for a week.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so glad this is finally done so I can share it with you guys. Not only is it long af, but my progress was delayed bc I got my wisdom teeth out a week ago and it's a little difficult to write anything sexy when you feel like Sendak just punched you in the jaw. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and for your support in this series. I wanted to write a fic that draws from A/B/O dynamics without actually having those dynamics, because while there are great A/B/O fics out there, a lot of these fics unavoidably have power imbalances that make me uncomfortable. So I took the things I liked from A/B/O, cut all the things I didn't, and ended up with this. And people liked it, which gives me hope.
> 
> Here's to more fics with explicit consent, good communication, emotional connections, and aftercare.
> 
> Although this is the ending of the Bonding Time AU, if you want more Klance fic from me you should totally check out He Who Fights Monsters, my ongoing Dragon AU fic. (Keith is temporarily a dragon, it's a lot purer than this fic, they make stupid jokes and there's a lot of pining.) Thank you and enjoy!!
> 
> (Spanish translations in end notes~)

Lance didn’t know what force in the universe had determined that Galras should have heat cycles, but he was endlessly grateful for it. 

Sex with Keith was always good, but Lance would be lying if he said he didn’t like it best when Keith was at his wit’s end, desperate to get off, cock huge and hard and heavy against Lance’s as they rolled on the already messy sheets of Lance’s bed together. Keith had gotten better at controlling himself when his heat hit, but there was always a certain element of savagery and instinct to it, like right now, when Keith’s sharp Galra teeth sank slightly into Lance’s bicep, drawing blood and making Lance gasp out an incoherent sound as Keith entered him at the same time. The slide in was made easy by the residual come and strawberry alien lube, and Lance sighed in relief when Keith was fully seated in him, hooking his legs around Keith’s hips and arching his spine. 

Keith shuddered in similar relief, tongue lapping gently at the puncture marks his teeth had left, nuzzling Lance’s throat and humming as his hips rolled in a slower rhythm than before. Lance cupped his cheek and Keith flushed, leaning into it, before he hesitated, pulled out, and flopped onto his back unexpectedly. Lance, crawling over him, asked, “You okay?”

A sound rumbled in Keith’s throat, lashes fluttering as Lance brushed the hair out of his eyes and a hand over his Galra ears. “Yeah,” Keith said, his voice absolutely _wrecked_. “Just tired.”

“Me too,” Lance murmured, curling around him, and Keith heaved another sigh. His cock was still hard and leaking against Lance’s hip, but he made no attempt to do anything with it, and when Lance reached down and stroked him off slowly Keith moaned quietly and seemed content with that. Lance kissed him lazily. “Want me to ride you?”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “Thought you said you were tired.”

“I am,” Lance mumbled. “But I can go again, bat boy.”

Keith’s brow furrowed, then he blinked and nudged Lance off of him. “Lay on your side,” he suggested, and Lance complied, and then Keith was shuffling up behind him, cock sliding in again as Keith spooned him, face pressed against the back of Lance’s neck. Lance groaned and moved back onto his cock, the two of them rocking unevenly against each other with no rhythm whatsoever, but it was so good, and he was surrounded by Keith, by his mate. Keith touched the pale pink scar on Lance’s abdomen with a hint of claws and he shuddered when Keith leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Mine,” in a rough, overwhelmed voice that Lance echoed.

Then Keith kept talking, and Lance’s eyes widened at his words. “You’re mine, so tight around my cock, just taking it, wish I could stay inside you forever.” They shuddered in unison and then Keith’s clawed hand was pressing over Lance’s stomach under the scar, the pressure almost too much. Keith groaned, and replaced his hand with Lance’s. “You can – you can feel me, inside.”

Lance, confused, pressed his palm down as Keith thrust deep into him, and swore – sure enough, he felt the push of Keith’s cock through his skin. “Oh my god,” he said shakily. “Keith –”

“You’re _mine_ ,” Keith growled again, and then he shoved hard against Lance and Lance felt his knot enter and lost all coherent thought.

*

But that wasn’t the last slightly strange occurrence. Far from it. Keith was always needy and possessive during his heats but this time it was _ridiculous_. When they weren’t having sex, Keith was pawing all over him and glaring at anyone who dared to come within three feet of Lance. Shiro slapped Lance on the back after a particularly good training session and for a few seconds Lance thought Keith was going to rip his throat out. Poor Hunk, who was always hugging Lance normally, had to resign himself to smiles and thumbs-ups because Keith might have actually mauled him if he wrapped Lance up in his usual bear hug. 

And when they _were_ having sex…Jesus, Lance would be the first to admit he liked it rough but he couldn’t remember ever having so many fucking _marks_ afterwards. Not just hickeys (though there were plenty of those), but bruises in general, and scratches from stray claws, and even actual bite marks. Of course Keith always apologized and carefully put antiseptic and Band-Aids on them afterwards, but it was kind of freaking Lance out…and it was getting really hard to hide them all. It became a regular occurrence for Pidge to remark on them with knowing smirk, and Shiro even had A Talk with Lance that involved a lot of eyebrow movements and embarrassment. 

“Are you guys, you know, okay?” Shiro had asked, arms folded seriously and eyes wide with worry. “Keith seems…more on-edge than usual this time.”

 _Buddy, you have no idea,_ Lance thought. “It’s all good,” he said instead, shrugging. “Keith would never hurt me.”

Shiro looked pointedly at the new extra-large Hello Kitty Band-Aid on his bicep. “Uh-huh.”

“Not _seriously_ hurt me, you know what I mean!” Lance retorted. “Ugh. Okay, yeah, maybe he’s acting a little weirder this time around but I’m sure it’s nothing. Just weird Galra shit, there’s no shortage of that, right?” He waved a hand. “It’ll probably stop once his heat does, and everything will be back to normal again.”

“And if it’s not?” Shiro asked, frowning.

“We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it, my dude,” Lance said, giving him finger guns and walking away.

*

The next morning Lance woke up and Keith wasn’t in his bed. He bolted upright, confused and more than a little concerned. After he peered at the clock and determined it was early but not horrifically early, Lance got up and padded over to Keith’s room, praying he was in there. He knocked, biting back a yawn. “Hey, bat boy. You in there?”

There was a strange rustling sound from the other side of the door, but it didn’t open. Lance turned the knob hesitantly, and found it unlocked. He stepped in, closing the door behind him and squinting into the semi-darkness. “…Keith? Where are – _holy shit!_ ”

Keith was _on him_ , golden eyes glowing fiercely, right in front of Lance’s face. He let out a startled squeak – Keith’s hands were tight on his waist and, oh, _Keith was totally naked_ , and he was rubbing himself all over Lance’s front like he was dying for it, cock leaking all over Lance’s T-shirt. “Lance,” he said, his voice all low and rumbly and _not fucking human_ , just like his teeth as they grazed Lance’s jaw, stinging slightly. 

Lance was ninety-nine percent sure Keith was either going to murder him or fuck his brains out so it caught him completely off-guard when Keith shivered and whispered, “Need you to fuck me; need you to be inside of me, right _now_.”

Lance made a choked sound. “Dios mío, give a guy some warning –”

Keith, with absolutely zero warning, dragged him over to the bed and Lance hit it hard, on his back, staring helplessly at Keith as he started yanking Lance’s clothes off. Lance registered distantly that the bed felt kind of weird – like someone had rearranged the pillows or added more blankets or something – but he stopped thinking when Keith leaned down and sucked Lance’s cock into his mouth.

Lance groaned and grabbed Keith’s stupid hair. He really fucking hoped Keith didn’t have his Galra teeth right now. It didn’t matter anyway, because Keith pulled off after like thirty seconds, wiping his mouth and wrapping a hand around Lance instead, lining him up. Lance flailed his hands around. “Dude! Wait! What are you – you’re gonna hurt yourself –”

Keith, eyes narrowing, lowered his body and sank down easily on Lance’s cock with a moan. Lance stared at him. Keith had – he was – 

Keith’s head fell back, exposing the smooth white column of his throat. “Wanted you so bad,” he gasped. “Missed you, I missed you –”

“Missed me?!” Lance shrieked, unable to look away from Keith as he started to move, mouth hanging open and thighs flexing as he lifted up, cock bobbing darkly against his pale skin, a fucking wet dream come to life. “It’s been like five hours!”

Keith shuddered. “Too long,” he whispered. There was a tremor in his voice, and if Lance didn’t know any better he might’ve thought Keith was going to cry. Of course he didn’t, he just rolled his hips and fisted his cock and moaned Lance’s name like a porn star while Lance gawked at him and wondered how this was his life, seriously. 

It was over pretty quickly – Lance could not handle Keith riding him like that for any extended period of time and Keith had been close from the start. Keith flopped down onto the bed next to him and snuggled into Lance’s side with a soft purr and Lance just kept staring at him. What was going _on_? “Keith?” he ventured. “Are you…okay?”

Keith just nuzzled into his throat, throwing an arm over Lance’s chest. “Don’t leave,” he mumbled. “Don’t leave again.”

Lance blinked. “What? Why would I…when have I ever left you –” Then it hit him. 

This was Keith’s first heat since Lance had nearly died. It seemed so long ago, but in reality it had only been three months. Lance paused. Keith’s heat had come late – usually it was about every two months. And when Lance had been comatose, Keith’s heat had been postponed by his pining and grief. Jesus. No wonder Keith was so fucked up. 

Lance wrapped an arm around him, tugging Keith closer. Keith whimpered against his throat, clinging to him with a desperation that made Lance’s heart hurt. “Hey,” Lance said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I promise.”

Keith touched the scar on Lance’s stomach again, light and trembling. They both looked down at it, an ugly line of raised pink tissue where the Galra spear’s blade had sliced into him, as long as Keith’s palm was wide. It was healed up nicely by now, and didn’t sting anymore when Lance sparred or stretched.

But Lance could still remember the pain of receiving it, vividly, and he could remember the horror in Keith’s eyes as he’d stared down at Lance where he lay dying. Lance could remember the relief that had washed over him when Keith told him that he loved him back. He could remember the blackness that followed, a void of missing time, missing memories, yet here and there Keith’s voice had broken through the nothingness, an anchor to reality; to life. 

“I’m here,” Lance whispered. “I’m here and I’m yours.”

Keith made a small sound and nestled into the curve of Lance’s body, resting his head against Lance’s chest and closing his eyes. Lance stroked his hair, soothing, and within minutes they were both asleep.

 

Lance awoke to the ship’s daytime simulator brightening the room with pseudo-sunlight and Keith still snuggled up to him. It was confusing because he was warm, but there weren’t any sheets over them and – what.

Lance sat up slowly, careful not to wake up Keith, eying the bed they were laying on with disbelief. He hadn’t been able to see it in the darkness last night, but Keith had stripped the sheets and apparently stolen some blankets from God knows where, along with a fair number of pillows, and arranged them all in a messy circle that Lance could only describe as a _nest_. A nest that he was now sleeping in, with his mate.

Lance tried not to read too much into it. He’d done a fair amount of research on Pidge’s laptop about weird Galra shit back in the day, just so he knew exactly what he was getting himself into. As it turned out, there weren’t a lot of details to be found because the Galra didn’t exactly go around announcing their sex and mating habits to the world, but Lance had learned enough. Enough to know that Galra mates made nests like this when they had a baby Galra on the way.

But one of the first things Lance had frantically searched for was whether male Galra could get pregnant, or get male humans pregnant, and the answer was definitively _no_ , which was a relief because Lance liked kids but not _that_ much. So then why was Keith nesting? 

Lance furrowed his brow at him, still fast asleep, Galra ears relaxed and flicking occasionally, purple splotching his pale skin here and there in a subtly-changing pattern. He had burrowed into the haphazardly-placed sheets and had a blanket half-covering his legs. Lance looked at the nest again. It was kind of adorable. It was even more adorable to think of Keith hoarding all this stuff and making it, taking care to make it big enough for the both of them. 

Lance smiled slowly. Was this, like, Galra domesticity? Was this like their version of moving in together? Whatever it was, it felt like some kind of milestone.

Keith stirred as if feeling Lance’s gaze on him, and when he cracked an eye open it was human again, bright yellow glare replaced by disoriented dark violet. Lance lay down next to him again, and Keith made a disgruntled noise, rubbing his face and wrinkling his nose. “Fuck, what happened last night?” he grumbled.

Lance hesitated. “Uh…is that a rhetorical question?”

Keith’s eyes opened fully, narrowing in suspicion. “No, why? Do I not want to know the answer?”

“You were kind of…not yourself,” Lance hedged. 

Keith’s lips parted, brows drawing together. “Did I _hurt_ you?!”

“What? No! Uh, no. No, you kind of…jumped on me and rode me into the mattress.”

Keith tilted his head. “Oh. Huh. Sorry?”

“Then you almost cried,” Lance continued. “It was sort of awkward. And you made us a cute nest, I guess? But that’s it.”

Keith blanched. “Can you provide a little more context?” he snapped. 

Lance sighed. “Yeah. You were saying all this stuff about how you didn’t want me to go and how you missed me. And you…you touched the scar.”

Keith was still wide-eyed and pale(r than usual). “Oh,” he said. Then his jaw tightened and he got that look on his face that signaled an attempt to distance himself emotionally and pretend nothing was wrong, which was bullshit, in Lance’s professional opinion. Keith started to roll away but Lance caught his shoulder.

“Hey, bat boy, look at me. I love you. And if something’s not okay with you, I wanna know about it.” Lance squeezed his shoulder. “Are you okay, really?”

Keith managed to glare at him for three more seconds before the tension went out of him and he curled back to Lance’s side. “I don’t know,” he admitted in a mumble that Lance had to strain to hear. “I think part of me is just. Afraid. Of losing you again.” He bit his lip. “And I always feel like that, but the heat kind of…amplifies it. Makes it worse. Last night I was…I was frantic, and desperate, like you were going to disappear at any second.” He exhaled, frustrated. “I know it’s stupid.”

“What?” Lance huffed. “No, it’s fucking not. If _you_ got stabbed and went into a month-long coma, I’d be pretty messed up, and I’m not half-Galra.” He hesitated. “Is it like…is it kind of like the blood fever? Is that why you’ve been all…bitey?”

Keith’s eyes widened comically. “No! No, it’s not, like, _violent_. I would never hurt you.”

Lance poked his Hello Kitty Band-Aid. 

Keith furrowed his brow, confused. “You came like a second after I did that.” 

Well, he wasn’t wrong. “Yeah, fine, but what about how possessive you are when the rest of the team is around? Like, it’s kind of hot, but I’m pretty sure Hunk is getting hug withdrawal because he’s afraid you’ll bite him – in a really unsexy way – if he so much as gives me a high-five.”

“I wouldn’t bite Hunk,” Keith protested, but it didn’t sound very convincing. He seemed to realize this and sighed. “I know it’s a problem. I just…can’t shake the feeling that you’re going to leave or get hurt somehow every time I turn my back or let someone else near you. I know it doesn’t make any sense!” he added hurriedly. “And you can take care of yourself, and I need to back off, but –”

“Keith, buddy,” Lance said gently, cutting him off before his anxious rambling evolved into a full-blown panic attack, Galra-style (which was not pretty, speaking from experience). “I get it. It’s not your fault that your Galra side is clingier than usual this time around. And you haven’t mauled anyone yet, so I’d count that as progress. We’ll figure this out, ‘kay? Like we always do.”

“But I still have a whole week left of this,” Keith said miserably, ears drooping. “And even after that it might not stop, and I don’t know what to do about it –”

“Uh-uh, no pessimism allowed, bat boy,” Lance said. “This is a Positivity Zone, got it?”

“This is my room,” Keith deadpanned. “ _Yours_ can be the Positivity Zone.” 

“Then what’s yours?”

Keith’s mouth twitched. “This is the Batcave, obviously.”

Lance was so proud; he had to kiss Keith just for that. 

*

Keith didn’t have the willpower to get out of bed that day and fell asleep again after their kissing led to, uh, kissing in other places. Lance slipped out of his arms carefully, and he made a pleased purring sound when Lance covered him with one of the few blankets that hadn’t been repurposed as nest material. His face scrunched up when Lance stroked his black-violet hair back from his face, but he did not wake, so Lance indulged in a little pet of his ears, too. Man, were all Galra ears so soft? Lance made a mental note to ask Sendak if they saw him again. That’d go over well.

Half-Galra boyfriend successfully tucked in, Lance made himself presentable and went out to join the others for breakfast. Coran was telling a story about Altea that somehow involved bees and most of the team was listening raptly, with Allura chiming in occasionally, but when Lance grabbed a bowl of morning mystery goo and found a seat next to Hunk, Shiro nudged his arm.

Lance braced himself for a Talk about being mindful of the five other people on the ship and how thin the walls were, but Shiro just asked, “Everything okay?”

Lance blinked. “Yeah, yeah, it’s all good. Keith just didn’t feel like getting up today.”

Shiro frowned worriedly. “That doesn’t sound okay, Lance.”

“He’s…” Lance paused. “We’re working through some stuff, and maybe he’s not okay right now, but he’s gonna be. Promise. Just, uh, give him some time.”

Shiro nodded. “Good. I don’t think time is going to be a problem – Allura mentioned a vacation in the near future, since I think we all need some time to wind down and relax…among other things.” He narrowed his eyes at Lance a little and oh, _there_ was the Talk. Shiro was frighteningly good at communicating his displeasure through eyebrow movements alone. 

“Got it,” Lance squeaked, not having the heart to say that last night hadn’t been _him_ making all the noise, for once, thank you very much. “Vacation! Sounds great! Thanks, Allura!”

She paused, mid bee story anecdote. “What was that, Lance?”

Shiro’s eyebrows returned to their normal, chill state. “Oh, I was just telling Lance about the vacation you and I were talking about earlier today.”

“A vacation?” Hunk exclaimed. “Please tell me it’s not on a scary planet and is actually a vacation disguised as a bonding exercise.”

“No, no, just a vacation,” Allura assured him, smiling, and gave Lance a pointed look. “We _all_ need some fresh air and open space after so long crammed in the Castle together, in such close quarters.” Lance winced. Pidge snorted into their cup and wiggled their eyebrows at Lance over the rim. _I hate you,_ Lance mouthed. Allura was still talking. “…think that Mautari is an ideal place for us to rest, just for a week or two. It is primarily an island planet, and many parts are uninhabited, so –”

“Hold up,” Lance said, “island planet? As in…beaches? We’re going to the beach?! Like, a real beach with shells and sand and waves and sunshine?”

“Yes,” Allura replied, puzzled. “Are beaches not a common phenomenon on Earth?”

“Princess, I believe the paladin is simply expressing nostalgia for Earth beaches,” Coran supplied, looking put-out about the premature ending of his bee story.

“Yeah, Lance loves the beach,” Hunk chimed in. “He practically grew up on an island, so, makes sense.”

“Oh!” Allura said, smiling genuinely at him this time. “How wonderful. Then I suppose we must set a course for Mautari as soon as possible.” Her smile faded slightly as she looked around the table. “Where is Keith?”

“Sleeping,” Lance said.

“Sleeping late, again?” Allura sighed, disappointed. “Lance, I believe your bad habits are transferring to him –”

“Let him sleep,” Lance said quietly, and everyone looked at him in surprise. No one ever interrupted the Princess, except maybe Shiro, and even then he risked a death-glare. Allura’s brow furrowed. Lance stirred his bowl of goo. “He’s had a rough week.”

Allura opened her mouth to reprimand him, and seemed to reconsider. “I see,” she said, and something in her tone told Lance that she really did see – maybe she’d also made the connection that this was Keith’s first heat since Lance’s coma. “In that case, please tell him I hope he feels better.”

“Sure thing,” Lance said. 

*

But Keith was still passed out when Lance returned to check on him after breakfast, so Lance went back to his own room. He lay on his bed for a while and thought about things, because Lance had a lot of Thoughts about a lot of Things, specifically Thoughts about Things about Keith. 

Keith had always been kind of a loner, independent, Other-People-Drag-Me-Down type. Back at the Garrison, Lance couldn’t remember ever seeing Keith with a group of friends – with Shiro sometimes, but usually he’d been alone, and glared at anyone who tried to change that. Lance had always assumed he just preferred it that way, but he was beginning to realize that Keith was more social than expected. Okay, so Lance wouldn’t go so far as to call him an extrovert – he absolutely wasn’t one – but Lance knew the team and the friendships within it meant a lot to him. That support meant a lot to him.

So maybe Keith was just…used to being alone. Which was depressing as fuck, but it made sense – they hadn’t talked much about Keith’s life before the Garrison but Lance knew it involved a whole shitstorm of foster homes that never quite worked out, for one reason or another. In hindsight, some of the disciplinary issues might have been brought out by Keith’s Galra side, though at the time he would’ve had no idea that was even a thing.

Man, Lance couldn’t imagine going through nineteen years of life before finding out you were half-alien. And not a very nice alien, either. Lance was struck with the overwhelming urge to give Keith a hug and never let go, poor dude. 

And then Keith had been expelled from the Garrison, which had probably been the icing on the Keith’s Depressing Life Cake. Keith had been the top pilot; he’d obviously enjoyed his time there, or at least the flying part of it. And Shiro had been his best friend, maybe one of his only close friends ever. It had probably been the highlight of his life, until the Kerberos Mission had ruined everything. Keith had told him once, briefly, about why the Garrison kicked him out. 

_Discipline issues, my ass,_ he’d muttered. _I knew something was off about Kerberos; they weren’t telling the whole truth. I went snooping. They found out, and I was gone. I was barely legal and they left me to rot in the desert. Fuck the Garrison._

So there was that. Keith had lived alone in that damn hobo shack for, what, a year? Lance couldn’t imagine it. He’d _never_ been alone – he had a big family, and in his house it had been near-impossible to not have at least two people in the vicinity at any given time. Even at the Garrison, he had Hunk and Pidge and a few other good friends. Lance couldn’t ever remember being really, truly, lonely. 

But Keith definitely could. And…and what if, now that Keith had felt something other than loneliness, he was afraid of it returning to his life at any minute? Damn, no wonder Keith was so freaked out about the thought of losing him. If he were Keith, he probably would’ve already tied himself up and never dared to take his eyes off of –

Wait. Huh. Now that was a Thought. 

Slowly but surely, an idea began to take shape. 

*

They arrived at Mautari late on the first day of the second week of Keith’s heat.

Not that Lance was counting. 

The planet was beautiful, and as Allura had said it was mostly a big blue ocean scattered with various islands, some volcanic, some jungle, some desert, and some, like the one they landed on, were basically paradise. Allura told them that they would be staying on Kepla, one of the larger islands which had, at one point, been inhabited. 

“What happened to the previous inhabitants?” Hunk asked nervously as they disembarked from the Castle and onto a cliff top path overlooking a beautiful black sand beach, which glittered in the sunlight and extended for miles in either direction. Lance looked wistfully at the crashing waves far below them, the sound of the ocean reminding him of home. 

“Oh, I expect the Mautarians were driven out or killed by the dragons,” Allura said casually.

“Hold up,” Lance said, hurrying to keep up with her, “ _dragons_?”

“Here we go,” Pidge muttered. 

“I don’t want to get eaten by a dragon!” Hunk exclaimed, looking up at the sky as if expecting a giant fireball to hit them at any second. “Princess, I thought you said this wasn’t a scary planet!”

“The dragons are extinct,” Pidge said, shaking their head. “There hasn’t been one here for hundreds of years, just like the inhabitants.”

“What happened to them?” Keith asked. He was looking at the waves too, gaze distant.

“Probably killed each other, I don’t know.” Pidge shrugged. “They were intelligent, so, it’s possible they had wars and conflict among themselves. And there weren’t that many to begin with, right?”

Allura nodded. “You’ve been doing your research, good. Yes, the dragons had a society, of a sort. The Mautarians worshipped them as gods, but it seems that the dragons were not so easily appeased. Look.” 

She pointed to a valley visible from their high vantage point, nestled in the thick forest and filled with what looked like the blackened remains of an ancient city. The ruins were crowned by a high, twisting tower that had a gaping hole in its side, causing it to lilt slightly to one side like a gnarled finger. All the trees in the surrounding area had been reduced to a ring of ashen stumps, like an outline of gray chalk, marking the boundaries of the dead city. 

Shiro, who had been walking up ahead with Coran, paused and peered at the city with a frown. “The trees haven’t grown back, even after all these centuries?”

“Dragon fire sort of…cauterizes everything it touches,” Coran muttered. “Awful business. Those trees will never grow back.”

“You guys seem to know a lot about dragons,” Lance hedged. He couldn’t help it – dragons were fucking awesome, okay. 

Allura inclined her head reluctantly. “There were dragons of a sort on Altea. Smaller than these, and not as aggressive, but what you would call dragons nonetheless. They were…magnificent beasts, truly.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, this is what I wished to show you all. Coran will be staying in the Castle, so you are all welcome to stay there if you prefer, but this is another option.”

“Um,” Lance said, staring at the stony hill that rose up in front of them. “Our other option is a giant rock?”

Allura leveled her gaze at him. Man, she could glare daggers better than his abuelita.

“It’s a cave system,” Pidge said helpfully, before Allura could verbally skewer Lance as well. “The Mautarians lived here, and built a sort of castle out of the caves. Kind of like the Balmerans, but with more advanced technology. They should still be mostly intact.”

“So where’s the door?” Keith asked. 

In reply, Allura walked to the smooth rock and pressed her hand over it. With a low, startling hum, the rock lit up with pale gold symbols and it shifted, a large square sinking inwards and then sliding to the side. The open door revealed a long hall that illuminated itself with more gold light as they made their way down it, strange wall sconces flaring to life with every step.

“It’s beautiful,” Hunk breathed, looking around in wonder. The hall widened to a large atrium, crowned by a sweeping staircase that gave them a glimpse of just how high and deep this place was. 

“How marvelous,” Coran agreed, looking up at the vaulted ceiling and the intricate array of lights hanging from it. “I daresay I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve seen many marvelous things!”

Lance scuffed at the dusty floor with his shoe and, to his delight, the tiles below were intricately decorated, painted and carved with bright flowers, fruits, and animals. Pidge noticed too, getting down on all fours and peering with fascination at the designs. “It’s amazing that the colors lasted this long,” they mused. “Then again, since it’s underground I guess it would be better preserved…hidden from the elements and all that.”

“Yes, it is amazing, isn’t it?” Allura smiled at them before ascending the staircase, pressing her hand to the wall again and bringing more lights to life, filling the dim space with a soft gold radiance. Lance hadn’t liked the idea of living underground, but the light was very much like sunlight, and the rooms and halls were wide and airy rather than narrow and cramped. Allura gestured for them to follow. “This was once a palace for the wealthiest and most powerful Mautarians on Kepla,” she told them. “The Aurelia, it was called. There are more than enough rooms for you all, but might I suggest we try to stay relatively close? This place is very large, and I imagine it would be easy to get lost or feel isolated.”

“ _Relatively_ close,” Shiro emphasized, glancing at Lance and Keith with zero subtlety. 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Shiro, we got it.”

“Wonderful!” Allura said. “Well, you’re all free to explore the palace, which should be…mostly safe. We can reconvene for dinner at sunset!”

“Uh…how will we know when the sun sets?” Lance asked.

Allura nodded to the lights. “They simulate the light from outside,” she said. “So at sunset, they will become more pink and orange, and when it is night they become white and silvery, like moonlight.”

Pidge’s eyes bugged out. “That’s _so cool_ ,” they whispered reverently.

Allura laughed. “The Aurelia is filled with very cool things,” she said. “I will see you all in the royal dining hall for dinner! It’s filled with lights and glass, impossible to miss. Farewell, paladins!” With that, she started up another flight of stairs and disappeared from sight. Shiro followed slowly, looking around with wide eyes. Hunk and Pidge dashed off to one of the lower levels. Coran disappeared down a twisting corridor. 

Keith blinked at Lance. “Should we…?”

“Find a room?” Lance finished. “Yeah, c’mon, bat boy. We’ve gotta find the best room in this place!”

“The best room?” Keith echoed, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the occasion?”

Lance grinned and slung his arms around Keith’s neck. “Always the best for you, querido.”

Keith turned bright red and shoved him away lightly, shaking his head. “Could you be any cheesier?”

“Was that a challenge?” Lance asked, grinning wider and making a kissy face at him. “Because the answer is definitely yes, mi amor, mi vida, mi cielo –”

Keith spluttered and flailed his arms at him. “Stop! Blegh. Let’s just find a room.”

“Aww, don’t you like my pet names? At least I didn’t call you gordito,” Lance said as Keith hurried up one of the staircases. Keith made an exasperated sound. Lance grabbed his waist and squeezed the soft flesh just above his hip, and Keith squawked and almost fell over. Lance giggled helplessly and Keith glowered at him over his shoulder. “You love me,” Lance said.

“Ughhh,” Keith muttered, but he didn’t deny it. 

*

The first three rooms they found were awesome, but not awesome enough. Keith didn’t understand Lance’s pickiness and Lance wasn’t about to explain it to him. He couldn’t ruin the surprise. By the sixth room, Keith’s Galra ears were flicking irritably, and by the tenth, he was making little growly sounds deep in his throat. 

“Lance, what is your _deal_?” he groused as Lance critically peered around the room. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“Eh, it just doesn’t feel like the right one,” Lance said. “Moving on!”

Keith tipped his head up to the ceiling and took a deep breath, exhaling forcefully through his nose. “Lance.”

“We’ll find it soon!” Lance said. “Probably.”

Keith rubbed his eyes and sighed, following him out reluctantly.

*

“This one!” Lance declared.

Keith blinked at him as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. They’d been through nineteen rooms. “Really?” he said.

“Yes, really!” Lance said. “It’s perfect.” He paused and looked worriedly at Keith. “Wait, do _you_ like it?”

Keith snorted. “I’ve been fine with all of them, Lance. This one’s great.” He smiled a little. “I do like the bathroom.” The room had an attached bathroom, which was almost as large as the room itself, complete with a huge, shallow sunken pool that was filled with warm, clear water that must have come from some underground spring. 

“Hell yeah,” Lance agreed. “And you know what the best part is?” He picked up something from the nightstand and wiggled his fingers. 

“Keys?” Keith said, confused. Then, with realization. “Keys.”

“The door locks!” Lance exclaimed. “And we each get a key.”

“Please tell me that isn’t the reason we went through twenty rooms.”

“It was a factor,” Lance admitted. “What?! Not all of us are totally cool with getting walked in on!”

“Totally cool?” Keith said, shifting and folding his arms. “Who said I was totally cool with that…I mean…”

“Zip your lips, Mr. Exhibitionist.”

Keith opened his mouth, then closed it. “Point taken,” he mumbled. 

“Hmph,” Lance said. “Well…now that we’ve got our room with a lock, I’m gonna go explore the rest of the palace.”

“Okay,” Keith said, and made as if to follow him.

“Alone,” Lance added, shrugging apologetically. “But hey, you should try to find Shiro or Pidge, I’m sure they’re doing something interesting.”

Keith looked hurt, and took a step back. “Oh,” he said stiffly. “Um…okay then, I guess.”

“But I’ll meet you back here after dinner, yeah?” Lance said, offering him a smile. Keith still looked uncertain, so Lance leaned in and kissed him, and felt Keith melt into it, making a small sound against Lance’s lips when he stroked a hand through Keith’s hair before pulling back. “Seeya, bat boy. Don’t forget your key,” Lance said, ruffling his hair and running off before Keith could smack him for it. 

*

It took some serious searching, but after just over an hour, Lance finally found what he was looking for. 

He’d begun to suspect that either a) Mautarians were really prude, b) Mautarians were really good at hiding their kinky shit, or c) Mautarians were just incorporeal blobs with no sex drives that reproduced asexually. Luckily for him it turned out to be b, and Lance never thought he would be relieved by the sight of a drawer full of sex toys, but that was just what his life had become, apparently. 

“Good to know dildos exist everywhere,” he said to himself, shaking his head and whistling lowly at the honestly ridiculous array. Man, the times these would’ve come in handy…Keith had found a vibrator at an alien bazaar four months ago, and they’d used that thing so often that it literally stopped working. That was a tragic day. They were desperate, basically – sex toys were few and far between in space. 

But they weren’t in space anymore, Lance thought gleefully as he sorted through them. He set aside three of the dildos – two that were pretty standard, made of something like silicon; one that was larger and made of smooth, dark wood that was warm to the touch. It was weird, but Lance was kinda into it. 

He dug through the drawer and found something else – several somethings, actually. He held them in the palm of his hand, and grinned uncontrollably. 

This was going to be _fun_.

*

When he returned to the room, Keith wasn’t back yet, and he let out a sigh of relief. The lights were dimming subtly, pink-gold faded to burnt orange, so he had a little time. He locked the door behind him and tossed all the items in the top drawer of the bedside table, except one, which he tied around his neck carefully, looking in the armoire mirror and adjusting it until it was exactly how he wanted it. Then he fished the little packet out of his pocket, took a deep, steadying breath, and yanked his shirt up and over his head.

This was so worth missing dinner.

* 

He didn’t have to wait for long.

Lance heard the sound of Keith’s footsteps outside the door; the jiggling of the doorknob; the confused noise; and finally the turning of the key in the lock. He took a deep breath, bowing his head and keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. He didn’t look up, even when the door opened with a low creak and Keith’s footsteps stopped abruptly. 

“L-lance?”

He sounded confused. Confused, and a little panicky, but also something else. Lance kept his head down, tilting it just so, letting Keith see the red ribbon tied in a big bow around his neck. 

Keith took a halting step forward. The door thudded shut behind him, loud, booming, and final. No going back now. “Lance, what is this,” Keith said, and it was less of a question and more of a demand. 

Slowly, Lance lifted his gaze, looking at Keith through his lashes. Keith was wide-eyed, his whole body held taut and uncertain, yet as Lance watched he saw Keith’s Galra features making themselves known – a yellow glint to his eyes, a purple tinge to his hair, canines sharpening into fangs, ears elongating into lavender fluff, nails tapering into claws, purple splotching at his skin like a spreading ink stain. 

Lance wanted to do a victory dance. He knew it. He fucking _knew_ this would affect Keith on some crazy deep instinctual level. The dude had repressed emotions, why not repressed desires too?

“It’s a gift,” Lance murmured. “I thought you needed something to cheer you up.”

Keith licked his lips, eyes still huge. “What…what’s the gift?”

“Me,” Lance said, and witnessed the shudder that went through Keith’s entire body. “You can do whatever you want to me, for a week.”

“Lance,” Keith whispered. “Why are you doing this? You…this isn’t…I don’t…”

“I want to,” Lance replied quietly, honestly. “I trust you.”

Keith’s eyes widened further, and he made a rough sound low in his throat that made the hairs on the back of Lance’s neck stand up. “Why?” Keith repeated, almost accusatory. “Why do you want this?”

“You said you were afraid of losing me,” Lance said. “That you felt like I was gonna disappear or get hurt again at any second. You felt helpless, right? So I’m giving you control. Over me.”

Keith swallowed. His eyes flickered, flaring gold. “Whatever I want?” he mused. 

“That’s what I said, bat boy.”

Keith eyed him suspiciously as if he still wasn’t sure Lance was serious. “Get on the bed,” he said, hesitant, testing the waters.

“Predictable,” Lance retorted, rising to his feet and turning towards the bed…and found himself shoved from behind, yelping as he hit the mattress hard, and felt Keith’s weight dip the bed behind him. Clawed hands pulled his legs apart and his breath shallowed as Keith growled, the tip of a claw tracing carefully around where Lance was wet and open.

“You fingered yourself,” Keith hissed, disbelieving. “Where did you even find…”

Lance exhaled shakily. “Top drawer,” he said, jerking his head towards the bedside table.

Keith leaned over him to open it, and Lance could feel the heavy bulge of Keith’s cock against his lower back, straining in his jeans. He felt the way Keith’s cock twitched, too, when Keith opened the drawer and saw what other items Lance had discovered. He held up each of them, shaking his head, eyes narrowing.

“You’re such a slut,” Keith told him, and _whoa_ , Lance didn’t even know that was like, a _thing_ for him, but it totally fucking was. He made sure Keith knew that, whimpering and squirming under him in reply, because if he was gonna be a slut he was at least gonna be good at it. 

He tried to grind back into Keith and Keith held him down effortlessly with one hand between his shoulder blades, Galra strength in full effect. “Stay,” he said, voice distant, thoughtful. Lance stayed, skin awash with arousal. “You’re so desperate for it, aren’t you?” Keith added, and okay, maybe that was a little hypocritical of Mr. In-Heat to say, but Lance couldn’t argue with it.

“Yeah,” he agreed, looking at Keith over his shoulder, eyes half-lidded. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good,” Keith said, and untied the ribbon from Lance’s neck, retying it over his eyes. “Can you see me?”

“No,” Lance said, blinking, trying to use his remaining senses to discern where Keith was; what he was going to do next. It wasn’t really working. “Keith –”

“Stop talking or I’ll gag you too,” Keith said mildly, and Lance’s breath came out in a rush. Keith shifted above him and then his voice was right next to Lance’s ear. “Is this alright?” he asked, quiet and concerned. “I…I don’t want to do something that –”

“I want this,” Lance whispered back. “I want everything you’d give me.”

Keith nuzzled his ear. “You say that, but if I ever do something that you don’t like…”

“I’ll tell you,” Lance promised. “I’ll tell you.” He turned his face blindly towards Keith. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Keith murmured, and kissed him, sloppy and openmouthed, fangs stinging at Lance’s lips, but not enough to break skin. When he pulled away, Lance kept his mouth shut, and told himself not to panic when Keith’s weight left the bed. He waited, heart pounding, and eventually Keith returned, and Lance found himself rolled over onto his back, and then felt Keith wrap the cord around his wrists, wrenching them up towards the headboard and securing them there. 

Oh, Dios. Galras really were kinky.

Lance didn’t get any warning before a long finger slid into him, curling and twisting as it was joined by another, and he could only tip his head back and bear down on them, knees bent and toes curling. Keith added a third finger, and Lance panted, impatient. 

Then Keith’s fingers were sliding out and he was shifting away again, no, no; why was he shifting away? Lance whined and then Keith’s hand was around his cock and he grunted in surprise, the sound becoming a full-fledged moan when Keith secured something around the base of it, pressure building in his cock in a way that verged on uncomfortable. The cock ring he’d found. Oh, sweet Jesus. 

“Since you’re so desperate for it, why don’t you wait for it?” Keith crooned, stroking Lance’s inner thigh. “I was going to talk to Shiro, and Hunk mentioned dessert, so I think we’ll put a rain check on this. What do you think about that?”

Lance shuddered. “You’re so mean,” he whined. “At least let me touch myself while you’re gone –”

“No,” Keith snapped, claws coming out, digging into the soft skin and making Lance’s heart beat a little bit faster. “Don’t touch yourself or come until I get back, or I won’t touch you at all.”

Lance was actually going to die. He gulped, and imagined the way Keith’s glowing eyes must have tracked the movement; predatory, instinctive. “Harsh,” he breathed. “No touching, got it. Capiche.” 

“Good boy,” Keith said, and Lance could practically hear the smile in his voice. Smug asshole. “You deserve a reward.” And without further preamble, he pushed something much larger than fingers into Lance. 

Lance made a strangled sound, hips arching off the bed. “What –” It had to be that weird dildo, the wooden one, and it felt smooth and warm and solid inside of him. His cock twitched valiantly against the ring, but to no avail. “Oh my god,” he said, “oh my god, you’re not going to just leave me here like this –”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” Keith said, retreating, claws sliding away and voice sliding with them. “This was your idea, you know.”

When his voice faded away suddenly Lance panicked, tugging at his bonds and gasping, “Wait – Keith, wait, don’t –”

Instantly Keith was there, his hand in Lance’s hair, and it was disorienting but Lance leaned into it, shivering. “Was that too much?” Keith whispered, so nervous and genuinely caring that Lance’s heart literally skipped a beat. 

“No,” Lance whispered back, shaky. “Just. How…how long?”

“Not long,” Keith promised, kissing Lance’s brow. “Soon. Lance, you know I won’t be able to wait that long either.” His voice turned mischievous. “And maybe if you’re good I’ll bring you back a treat.”

Lance hummed. “I will be.”

Keith made a low sound of approval and stepped away, and Lance listened to his retreating footsteps, flinching when the door shut with a loud _click_. The silence was oppressive in his absence, and Lance shifted on the bed, and _oh_ , the toy shifted with it. He bit his lip, and shifted again, bracing his feet on the mattress and rolling his hips. Again, and again, and then – _there_.

“F-fuck,” Lance hissed, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling wetness puddle on his belly, his dick fully hard and leaking, the ring digging into its base, constant pressure. His breathing was harsh and loud in the quiet of the room. Lance wriggled again, and the toy nudged at his prostate, and he swallowed a moan. “What have you gotten yourself into this time, Lance,” he muttered, tilting his head back on the pillow and pulling halfheartedly at the restraints. “The Galra heat thing wasn’t bad enough, oh no, you just _had_ to make it even weirder.” 

He had to stop moving around, or this was going to go from pleasant stimulation to actual torture real fast. 

Easier said than done. 

Lance tried several different strategies – first, he tried thinking unsexy thoughts, which worked for about two minutes before he went right back to hopelessly hot and bothered. Then he tried counting sheep, which was a great idea in theory but really just made the minutes drag on. Then he tried imagining the shame and horror if someone other than Keith walked in on this, but Lance was pretty sure there was something wrong with him because that didn’t freak him out nearly as much as it should have. 

In the end Lance gave up and alternated between wiggling around, humping the air, and biting the inside of his cheek so hard it actually bled. Again, there was something wrong with him, because the taste of blood should have turned him off at least a little, but it actually just added to his unbearable arousal. 

This was all Keith’s fault, probably. His alien juju had done something irreparable to Lance’s brain slash dick. Either that, or Lance had been a freak all along, in which case he owed a written apology to his Mama. 

Lance’s thoughts were slowly turning into incoherent mush, but there was nothing he could do about it except curse Keith and spread his legs wider. 

 

By the time the key turned in the lock again, Lance was an absolute mess. He was soaked in sweat, hair plastered to his brow and face flushed, wrists chafed, stomach smeared with precum, legs spread as wide as they could be, cock throbbing and breaths coming fast and shallow. He was also drooling, possibly – he couldn’t really differentiate between all the different sensations. 

So Lance barely heard the click of the door opening or the sharp intake of breath that followed, and only knew that one second he was alone on the bed and the next, Keith was on top of him, kissing him like he was dying for it. Lance moaned, arching up into him, almost sobbing when his dick rubbed against Keith’s jeans; sweet, sweet friction. Then Keith’s hand was on the base of the toy, shoving it deeper, and Lance did sob, jerking up into it, lips sliding sloppily against Keith’s. He knew Keith must be able to taste his blood. 

“Please,” he gasped, and Keith groaned into his mouth, fucking him faster with the toy. “Please, please, _te necesito_ –”

“You look like such a whore,” Keith growled, nipping at his lower lip. “So fucking hot, begging for it like the slut you are, I bet you’d do anything I say right now.”

“Yes, yes,” Lance panted, “anything, anything!”

Keith pulled the toy out. Lance shuddered at the loss. “Don’t come,” Keith said, and Lance whined helplessly. “Not until I say so.” And before Lance could object, Keith moved down his body and then Lance’s cock was in his mouth. 

Lance screamed.

Keith moaned around his cock and sank down further and this was nothing like the rushed blowjob of a couple nights ago – this was fucking _art_. Keith was good at a lot of things, and sucking cock was high on that list. His tongue lapped over the tip, almost tender if it hadn’t been so filthy, and Lance wished he could see Keith right now, bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks, swallowing and pressing forward until his lips touched the cock ring. 

“Keith, Keith, Keith,” he was chanting, and then two fingers slid smoothly inside of him and his hips arched up, and Keith didn’t stop him, just sucked harder, his other hand grabbing at Lance’s ass. Lance moaned, fucking into the heat of his mouth and the curl of his fingers, grabbing onto the cords for leverage, shouting and squirming when Keith’s fingers pushed against his prostate mercilessly. There were tears in Lance’s eyes, dampening the blindfold and dribbling down his cheeks. “Oh god, please, _Keith_ , I can’t –”

Keith’s free hand slid down his body and then his fingers were on Lance’s cock and the ring was tugged free. Keith drew back. “Come in my mouth,” he said.

With a strangled cry, Lance did, hips arching up off the bed and nails digging into his palms, trembling from oversensitivity as Keith worked him through it, licking and suckling around the head as if to get every last drop. Lance slumped back onto the bed bonelessly, the ache in his arms and wrists making itself known through the haze of pleasure. Keith mouthed over his hip, and moved up, trailing kisses, pausing halfway and making a low, upset sound. 

“Lance,” he said, disappointment filling his voice. “Oh, Lance.”

Lance wilted at the sound of it. “Did I…did I do something wrong?”

Keith sighed and then he was untying the ribbon, and Lance blinked up at him blearily, his eyelashes sticking together. Keith wiped the drying tears away with his thumbs, and when Lance’s vision cleared Keith was frowning down at him, brow furrowed. “You were perfect,” Keith murmured, but he was still frowning. He reached up and untied Lance’s hands, and Lance hissed as his numb arms prickled with pins and needles…and then winced as Keith unwound the cord entirely, exposing his wrists. 

They were rubbed raw, the skin red and torn in places, and they stung when Keith brushed a fingertip over them. “I’m sorry,” Keith said, and Lance realized Keith wasn’t disappointed with _him_ , but with himself. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.” He lifted one of Lance’s wrists to his mouth and kissed it carefully, his shoulders hunched and eyes sad. 

“Hey,” Lance mumbled. “It’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have tied you up, I didn’t think, I –”

“Keith, shh,” Lance said, the hand Keith had kissed curving up to cup his face, “it’s okay. It’s just a little rope burn. I’ve had worse.”

Keith’s eyes darkened at that, and his gaze flicked down to the scar unhappily. Lance mentally slapped himself. That was the wrong thing to say. Now Keith was gonna be too on edge to even want to touch him, much less –

“I’m not going to leave you alone again,” Keith said, cupping his face and looking at him intently. “I just want you to…to be safe.”

“I am safe,” Lance said, “with you.”

The fire left Keith’s eyes, replaced by soft adoration that made Lance all warm and fuzzy inside. “Let me take care of you,” Keith whispered, painfully intimate.

“Anything,” Lance reminded him.

*

Lance leaned back into Keith’s chest, lulled half to sleep by the warmth of the water and the tender ministrations of Keith’s hands on his body. He had cleaned Lance’s wrists with the warm cloth before bandaging them up, and now he was cleaning the rest of him, lathering soap over his arms and torso. Keith managed to keep it mostly chaste at first, but then his thumb had accidentally brushed Lance’s nipple and Lance had let out a small, breathy sound, so Keith did it again.

It wasn’t rough, though; just gentle fondling, occasional kisses to the back of his neck, and of course the ever-present heat of Keith’s cock against his lower back. Still, the position didn’t feel sexual, necessarily – just protective, comforting, with Lance curled in the space between Keith’s bent legs and encircling arms. Keith was surprisingly cuddly and emanated more warmth than any human, especially during his cycle, which automatically made snuggling ten times better. 

Lance turned his head, lips brushing Keith’s jaw. “Were you a hugger as a kid?”

Keith paused, and made a confused sound. “Was I a what?”

“When you were little,” Lance explained, “were you one of those kids who was super touchy-feely and affectionate?”

Keith exhaled, his hair brushing against Lance’s shoulder as he tipped his head forward to rest his chin there. “No,” he said. “But maybe I would have been, in…a different situation.”

“Then what were you like?” Lance pressed.

Keith was silent for a time and at first Lance thought he wouldn’t answer. Then, “I was quiet. Guarded. I remember being angry a lot. Or…not angry, exactly. Sad, maybe. Bitter. I don’t know. Sometimes I would sulk and sometimes I would act out in other ways. But I was never a hugger.”

“Why?”

Keith shrugged. “Because I didn’t have anyone to hug, I guess. I didn’t make myself very huggable in the first place.”

“I bet you were an adorable kid,” Lance told him. “ _I_ would’ve hugged you.”

“Thanks, Lance,” Keith said, shaking his head. Lance felt his smile against his skin. “I probably would have hit you, though.”

Lance grinned at him. “Worth it.”

“Heh.” Keith soaped up his hands and started working his fingers through Lance’s hair, which felt really damn good, holy fucking shitballs. Lance sighed and arched into it, moaning in encouragement when Keith scratched lightly at his scalp, and felt Keith’s body stiffen against him. “Really? We were just having a heartfelt talk about _childhood_.”

“Can we have a heartfelt talk about how much I want you to fuck me?”

Keith made a disgusted sound and continued washing Lance’s hair, a little less gently. “I’ve created a monster,” he muttered under his breath.

“Mm,” Lance agreed, rolling his head back onto Keith’s shoulder. The muscles there shifted and tensed in response. He was sleepy and his mind was hazy, not quite catching up with his mouth. “Do you remember the first time, back on Everren, when you left me alone in your bathtub afterwards?”

Keith’s hands stilled in his hair. “Yes.”

“I thought you hated me,” Lance continued conversationally. “It sucked. I mean, I know it probably sucked worse for you, so no hard feelings, but…it was no fun. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but I actually cried. Lame, right?” He laughed. “Anyway, sorry, I’m rambling, but this just reminded me of that. This is like, what I wish had happened instead. Yay for happy endings.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispered, pained, shuffling away slightly. Lance’s back prickled with goose bumps in his absence. “I know an apology doesn’t change how badly I fucked up, but. I’m so sorry, Lance.” He sighed heavily. “Sometimes it feels like all I ever do is hurt you.”

Lance turned around to face him, brow furrowed. “What? How the hell did you get that idea –”

Keith regarded him unhappily and reached out, palm covering the scar as if to hide it. “Don’t deny it,” he said. “If I had just told you I loved you sooner, we never would have gotten into that fight. We might never have ended up on that ship, trapped in the cargo bay –” He broke off, shaking his head. “I can barely take care of myself, much less someone else. You…you deserve better.” 

Lance covered his hand with his own. “This wasn’t your fault,” he said. “That was the Galra, not you.”

Keith barked out a laugh, ears flicking back. “Yeah, because there’s such a huge difference between us,” he retorted.

Lance leaned in and kissed him. “There is,” he mumbled. “You’re not them, Keith.”

Keith slumped forward until their foreheads touched. “I could have been,” he whispered. “If I had been born in the Galra Empire instead of on Earth, I would have been.”

“I don’t believe that,” Lance said. “I don’t believe you would have ever fought for Zarkon. I don’t believe your father fought for him, either. Red _chose_ you, Keith, knowing exactly what you are. I chose you, too.”

“You didn’t have a choice.” Keith bit his lip. “If you did –”

“Stop it,” Lance snapped. “I had a choice. I could’ve walked away. I could’ve let the Empress help you. But I didn’t. I didn’t even consider doing that. I’d already made my choice, and it was you, purple ears and all.” Keith shivered and Lance kissed the tip of his nose, voice softening. “You didn’t hurt me, Keith. This,” he pressed Keith’s hand to the scar again, “isn’t your fault.”

“I thought,” Keith breathed, “I thought you were going to die without knowing how much I cared about you. I was so afraid that I would never get to tell you…to _show_ you how much you mean to me.”

Lance swallowed. “Show me now,” he whispered. 

Keith kissed him in reply, warm and fierce, and Lance opened to it, sweet and yielding, letting out a small sound as Keith’s hands settled on his sides and eased him down onto the shelf of stone in the corner of the bath. Keith always kissed like he was dying for it, a little messy and a little sharp, but it was softer now, and Lance welcomed the hot press of Keith’s tongue against his own, tilting his head to deepen the angle. Keith moved between his legs and Lance felt the cool slide of claws across his ribs and further, felt the sharp points shift to dull nails, felt the gentle caress of fingertips over the scar as Keith broke the kiss and nuzzled down Lance’s body until his mouth met the skin his fingers touched. 

Lance gasped when Keith licked over the scar, kissing across the raised pink line with deliberate slowness and sucking a bruise into Lance’s hip when he was done, hands wandering down to wrap around his stirring cock, teasing at the tip, digging his thumb in. Lance let his head fall back against the tile, hips pushing up into Keith’s grip. Keith mouthed over the bruise, letting his teeth graze it, featherlight. Lance wanted to ask him to press harder, to draw blood, but didn’t want to break the sort of intense focus in Keith’s eyes, as if Lance was a particularly intricate puzzle to be solved.

“C’mon, I said _show_ me, bat boy,” Lance said, peering down at him. “Not tease me.”

“Whatever I want, didn’t you say?” Keith mumbled against his thigh, smiling, hand slipping under Lance’s body, lifting his ass from the stone. He lapped at the sensitive skin behind his balls, sucking and licking around where Lance wanted him most, and it should have been torturous but it was only tender, and Lance rolled his head to the side, moaning in encouragement, startling when Keith’s finger breached him, unexpected intrusion. 

Lance stared at him, breathless. “What _do_ you want?”

“Whatever you want,” Keith said seriously, head tilted, eyes wide and dark. “I want to make you feel good.” He dipped down, opening his mouth against the base of Lance’s cock and curling his finger inside. “What do you want, Lance?” he whispered. 

“You,” Lance whispered back, reaching down, hand sliding through Keith’s wet hair. “Just… _you_. Keith. Please.”

Keith looked at him, purple shifting to gold, and growled, a rumbling vibration that made Lance shudder and arch into his face again, chasing the heat of his mouth. But Keith moved away, getting to his feet, water falling down his body in shining rivulets as he stood over Lance. A whimper caught in Lance’s throat at the sight of him; all rippling muscle and pale skin, Galra purple spotting down his chest, darkest at his cock which curved up desperately over his belly, dripping from the water and its own slick. 

Keith’s hand drifted down his body, following the purple stain. It closed around his cock and Lance’s whimper broke free. Keith twisted his wrist, fisting his cock, never breaking Lance’s gaze. “Keith,” Lance choked out. “That’s not _fair_.”

“I never said you couldn’t touch yourself,” Keith countered, eyes hooded, a challenge issued. 

Oh, Jesus _fuck_. 

“F-fine,” Lance retorted, wrapping an unsteady hand around his own cock, “I see how it is, bat boy.”

Keith made a low, amused sound, roughened by lust. He squeezed, hard, and precum beaded up thickly, trickling across his knuckles. “You know,” Keith said, hair hanging in his face, “on the first day of my first heat, I had a dream about you.” _Carajo._ Heat flushed through Lance’s body, curling low in his gut and through his cock with a jolt. “About fucking you, on your hands and knees, and making you mine.” His hand had stilled, gaze fixed only on Lance. “When I woke up, I couldn’t think of anything else. I touched myself, like this, thinking of you.”

Lance’s face was hot, burning like the rest of him. He was nothing but heat; a coal smoldering in the fire. “I thought of you too,” he said helplessly. “I thought of – of this.” And, under the water, Lance slid two fingers into himself. 

Keith’s eyes widened. Lance saw the muscles of his stomach clench as his breath hitched; saw the red flush overlap the purple; saw his cock twitch as if shocked in his hand. It was strangely empowering. 

Lance shifted, pressing back on his own fingers, pushing them deeper within himself. “I thought of what you would be like,” he said, voice quiet, yet impressively steady. “Of how you would fuck me. Of how you would let me fuck you.”

Keith looked like he was barely breathing. “And how did you think I would be?” he asked. 

“Rough,” Lance admitted, curling his fingers and stuttering out a moan. “C-competitive.” Keith’s brows drew together. “Everything was always a competition between us, before, and I guess I thought sex would be, too. I thought it would just be about that, with you – showing off, trying to be better than each other, trying to prove a point.”

Keith frowned. “Is it…is it really like that for you, with me?”

Lance laughed, shaking his head. “Fuck, no,” he said. “No. It was never like that. Even when you couldn’t keep your hands off of me that first time…even when you had me begging and helpless under you…it didn’t feel like rivalry. It didn’t feel like you were trying to get one up on me or put me in my place or make me…less.”

“What?” Keith exclaimed, stepping forward, arousal momentarily forgotten. “Make you _less_?! You thought that…that me fucking you was some kind of…of _power play_?” He looked a bit sick. “I would never –”

“I know,” Lance assured. “I know that now. You’ve never made me feel that way, Keith. And that’s why I got so…so confused about everything, and I started getting in over my head and I thought you didn’t feel the same way because you always acted like you didn’t care about anything or anyone, but in bed, you treated me like something precious.”

“You are,” Keith said. “Lance –”

“Come _here_ ,” Lance pleaded, patience gone, and Keith folded down atop him with a curse, sighing into Lance’s mouth when his cock nudged at where Lance was spreading himself open, hips shuddering forward instinctively. Lance wrapped his legs around Keith’s waist in reply, and Keith’s teeth grazed his lips. “Ya cógeme,” Lance hissed, arching up invitingly. “Ahora.”

Keith bit his ear. “Sé un chico bueno.” 

Lance choked on air. “ _Coño_ –”

Keith snickered. “¿Te gusta eso?” 

“How are you _real_ ,” Lance moaned, grabbing at his face. “Who taught you that?”

Keith snorted fondly. “I may have done some research for you.”

“I love you,” Lance sobbed, and shoved his tongue down Keith’s throat. 

Keith kissed back, one hand grabbing at Lance’s hair and the other fumbling between them. Lance didn’t know what he was doing until Keith broke the kiss and pushed two fingers into Lance’s open mouth, sticky and strawberry-flavored. Lance moaned in understanding and sucked on them obediently, tongue tingling as the aphrodisiac started to take effect. He licked Keith’s fingers clean and closed his eyes, the tingling spreading through his chest and into his belly, pooling warm and hot there, cock twitching with sensitivity as Keith shifted against him. He whined, lashes fluttering, dizzy with desire already. 

Then Keith was grasping his wrist lightly, pulling Lance’s fingers out and replacing them with his own, and Lance squirmed as the tingling came with them, relaxing his muscles and making the slide even easier. Keith had lifted his hips so they were out of the water, and Lance could see every movement of his fingers, could see the fluid squelching between them, could see the overwhelming want in Keith’s eyes. 

“Are you –”

Lance dug his heels into Keith’s back. “Yes, sí, sí, sí –”

Keith didn’t tease him any longer. Instead he flipped their positions, grabbed Lance’s hips, lifted him up, and set Lance back down on his cock, so that Lance’s back was flush to his chest again. Lance bit his lip at the initial stretch, leaning back into Keith as his cock slid in with a dull, familiar ache. Keith’s nails dug into his hips, face pressing against the back of Lance’s neck with a warm huff of breath, overwhelmed. 

Lance made a broken sound and let himself adjust; eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving at the sensation of being filled so entirely. He could feel every little unconscious shift of their hips; could feel their heartbeats pounding in sync; could feel the tremors that went through Keith as he struggled to keep still. Lance wondered what it would be like if Keith lost that restraint completely. He filed that thought away for later and started to move.

Keith groaned and clutched tighter at his hips when Lance spread his legs to give himself more leverage, feet pushing off the bottom of the bathtub as he lifted himself up along the length of Keith’s cock, and let himself drop back down again with a soft splash. Keith jerked up into it instinctively and Lance moaned, rocking unevenly in his lap, hips working in small circles, forcing him deeper. Keith growled his name and hid his face in Lance’s hair again, managing to keep his thrusts slow. It was a lazy kind of fucking, half in the water, ripples spreading outwards, and Lance wanted more.

Several minutes in he felt the swell of Keith’s knot under him and shuddered in expectation, but Keith was still barely moving, content to nuzzle at Lance’s neck and cover his shoulders in wet kisses and love bites. Lance squirmed and pressed down on him. Keith stilled his hips and nipped his shoulder blade. “Impatient,” Keith mumbled, sounding entirely unconcerned with the fact that he was moving slower than molasses. “I’m trying to show you how much you mean to me.”

Lance paused, scowling and glancing back at him. “Well, _this_ isn’t cutting it. Pick up the pace, bat boy.”

Keith blinked, and actually looked slightly hurt. His ears drooped. “You don’t…like this?”

Lance blinked back, and realized Keith didn’t think he was teasing – when Lance fucked Keith, he liked it slow, tender like this. Keith was just trying to give Lance the same thing, which was…really sweet, actually. But it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. Lance bit his lip, and moved off of him with a wince, chest twinging when Keith shuffled away, confused and upset. “No,” Lance admitted, and Keith flinched as if struck.

“Fine,” Keith snapped. “Then by all means, tell me what I’m doing wrong here.”

Lance hesitated. The words caught in his throat, his face flushing as they tumbled free. “I don’t want you to hold yourself back,” he said. “I want you to fuck me the way you really want to.”

Keith froze. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said.

“I know exactly what I’m asking,” Lance retorted, folding his arms and glaring down at him. Keith was still sitting on the shelf, hands gripping the edge so hard his knuckles were ivory. “I know you don’t want to hurt me. But maybe I don’t care if you do. Maybe I want you to show everyone I’m yours, and no one else can take me from you. Why do you think I suggested giving myself to you for a week? Obviously I’m into it, bat boy.”

“Lance,” Keith said, and there was a different tone to his voice, one that made Lance’s knees weak. “I don’t think I’ll be able to – control myself.”

“Then don’t,” Lance told him. “Just let go.”

Keith’s face looked more Galra than Lance had ever seen it, and it wasn’t exactly turning him off. “This is what you want?” he mused. Holy shit, he was going to do it. _He was going to do it._

“This is what I want,” Lance swore.

Keith exhaled, and stood up abruptly, stepping out of the bath and eying Lance. “Dry yourself off,” he said. “Go to the bedroom when you’re done.” With that, he left the room, or maybe _stalked_ out was a better description. Lance tried to remember how to breathe, got out of the bath, and toweled himself off in record time. 

When he opened the bedroom door, the first thing he saw was the bed, completely stripped of sheets and pillows, which had been arranged in what could only be a huge nest on the floor at the foot of the bed. The second thing was Keith, skin mottled almost entirely with purple, ears flat against his hair, eyes yellow slits, and fangs gleaming in the half-light. He was definitely stalking when he approached Lance, lips parted and expression nothing short of hungry. Keith backed him up until his back hit the wall, cornering him.

Lance’s heart pounded frantically against the cage of his ribs. Keith’s ears pricked, hearing it, and he chuckled, a low, inhuman sound that made every hair stand on end. He touched Lance’s face with a single claw, and this time it left a thin, stinging red line down the length of his jaw, gentleness forgotten. All five claws pressed hard to his throat and Lance whined, Keith’s lips curving up in satisfaction. 

“Greedy human boy,” he murmured. 

“Keith,” Lance whispered, the claws scraping lightly down his neck and over his chest. 

Keith tilted his head. “Lance,” he echoed, mocking, and kissed him, hard and punishing, claws scratching over Lance’s chest and drawing blood. Lance gasped into the kiss at the slice of pain, but Keith shoved him up against the wall harder, pinning his wrists over his head and licking into his mouth sloppily. Lance surrendered to it, overcome by the intensity – Keith was strong, but Lance didn’t know he was _this_ strong, capable of breaking bones and ripping flesh and completely trapping teenage boys against walls with one hand and the hot crush of his body. True to his word, Keith wasn’t holding back one bit, and it was terrifying. 

Lance had never been so hard in his life. 

Keith pulled back, but only for a moment – then he was yanking Lance forward and flipping him around, and Lance only got his growl as warning before Keith slammed him face-first into the stone and fucked into him. Lance cried out in surprise, spine bowing as Keith fucked him with shallow, vicious thrusts, wrenching Lance’s head back with a hand in his hair. Lance’s eyes were wide, mouth gaping open, his cock trapped between his belly and the wall as Keith pounded into him again and again. Keith smacked his ass and Lance yelped, clenching around his cock and making them both moan. 

“You look so good taking it,” Keith told him. “Filthy slut. You like the pain, don’t you? You like feeling used, you like letting me fill you up.”

“Yes,” Lance gasped, pushing back into Keith’s grip shamelessly, “please, please.”

Keith’s claws skimmed over his nipples. “Use your words.”

“P-please, use me, come inside me, I wanna feel you –”

Keith shoved forward and came, a burst of heat and fluid trickling out on Lance’s thighs, stuffing him even fuller, the sounds of their fucking twice as loud and obscene as before. Lance stumbled, unable to hold himself up, face pressed against the wall and cock hanging heavy between his legs. Keith bit his shoulder, fangs digging in and slicing through his skin like a knife through hot butter, and Lance felt Keith’s cock jerk inside of him when he tasted blood. 

Lance laughed raggedly. “You’re a vampire bat boy now, huh?”

Keith tore his mouth away with a snarl and yanked him away from the wall. Lance’s knees gave out and Keith landed heavy on top of him, knocking him flat on the floor, into the nest, the metallic scent of blood sharp in the air. “Do you ever shut up,” Keith muttered, and Lance laughed again, cut-off as Keith drove into him at a new, better angle, pulling his hips up and wrenching his legs apart so that he was presenting. 

“N-nope,” Lance stuttered, muffled in the pillows. “I’m pretty loud – _ah,_ fuck, _there_ –”

“Yeah, you are,” Keith purred, so fucking pleased with himself, but _oh_ , okay, Lance was pretty pleased with him too. “You better be loud for me,” he continued, words as relentless as his thrusts, “you better scream for me, so that everyone knows exactly what I’m doing to you, exactly what you want me to do to you.” Lance was shaking, panting hot and wet into the pillow, grabbing frantically for his cock.

Keith pushed his hand away and hit his ass again, hard enough to bruise, and Lance came with a shout and without a single touch, splattering the sheets under them. Keith followed suit, his come slicking down Lance’s thighs in earnest, and when Keith pressed two fingers to Lance’s lips they were covered in it. Lance took them into his mouth sluggishly; cleaning them off with soft, kittenish licks and feeling claws become nails against his tongue. He moaned around them.

Keith pushed his fingers deeper and Lance gagged but took it, shivering when Keith slowed, losing speed but not intensity; teasing at Lance’s half-hard cock with his other hand in a kind of unspoken reward, cold cage of claws around the leaking head, warm palm rubbing at the base while Keith fucked into him over and over. A few minutes of that, and Lance came again, shuddering, reduced to nothing but skin and the hot wash of arousal. 

He had never…it had never been like this, like he had been trapped in some endless state of muted climax, so good and so much that he could feel tears running down his cheeks. When Lance came the third time, he cried out, a garbled version of Keith’s name, and made amends with his impending demise, because he was either dying or ascending to a new plane of existence or both. 

The wide head of Keith’s cock was dragging against his prostate on every thrust, and Lance could do nothing but moan and mewl and push back into it, dazed by the conflicting sensations of the bright pain in his shoulder and the dull ache in his jaw and the warm fluid dripping across his skin and the sweet tingling of the aphrodisiac running through his veins. 

But all of it was overlaid by the devastating pleasure of Keith claiming him, and Lance felt it the moment his cock began to swell, a distension at his entrance, stretching him wider, wide enough to make him tremble and moan in anticipation. Usually Keith gave him some verbal warning, but this time there was none, nothing but Keith’s growl in his ear and the brutal thrust inwards, his knot continuing to swell even inside Lance, plugging him up, making him Keith’s, and it was _perfect_ , it was exactly what he needed. 

Lance was vaguely aware of someone screaming, tapering off into overwhelmed sobs, and only realized it was himself when Keith’s teeth closed around the nape of his neck. Strangely, that calmed him, and he went lax in Keith’s grip, half-collapsing into the nest as Keith spilled in him a third time, holding him through it. Keith let go when it was over, and Lance immediately whimpered from the loss of contact, even though they were literally locked together – he needed Keith close, closer, closest; now, always. 

Keith made a shushing sound and wrapped an arm around Lance’s waist, maneuvering him so he was on his side, with Keith spooning him and a dry, drool-free pillow under his head. Then Keith tilted Lance’s head back just so and then they were kissing and everything was right with the world. Lance’s fuzzy brain was incapable of registering anything other than Keith, Keith, Keith. Even though the kiss tasted like salt and copper, it was somehow tender, Keith’s tongue pressing gently into his mouth, hand cupping his jaw with no force behind it. 

By some miracle, Lance’s dick was getting interested again, dormant arousal buzzing through his body and sparking to ignition when Keith stretched out along the length of his spine, buried deep inside, mouthing and nipping his way down Lance’s neck and over his collarbones. He dragged the flat of his tongue over the bloodied bite mark on Lance’s shoulder, cleaning it but also savoring it, making low, pleased sounds in his throat. Keith’s mouth covered the spots where the blood welled up, drawing it into his mouth with soft sucks. Lance watched him hazily, and felt sure he should be disgusted. He wasn’t. 

Keith’s eyes flicked up to meet his, and Lance jolted back in surprise – they were entirely yellow, glowing warmly in the dim room, not a trace of humanity in them. Keith’s throat bobbed, swallowing, and when he lifted his head there was red smeared all over his lips and chin. Keith wasn’t a monster, but damn, he sure looked like one. There was something feral in his gaze, something predatory and primal; and every instinct screamed at Lance to run, to escape the beast before it destroyed him.

But it was a little late for that, Lance figured. 

As if sensing his unease, Keith blinked and tilted his head, the ferocity in his eyes fading. He stroked a thumb over Lance’s chest, over his heart where it thudded restively. “You taste so good,” he mused. “Gonna eat you out after this.”

Lance squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, hiding his face in the pillow. Keith laughed, a warm huff of breath across his cheek. “Not so talkative now, hm?”

“You’re going to kill me,” Lance said, strangled. 

Keith nuzzled his neck, hand moving down from Lance’s heart to the scar. “No,” he murmured. “Never.”

Lance sighed, relaxing more into the curve of Keith’s body, warm and sated and pleasantly filled. His thoughts wandered aimlessly. “Do you ever wish I was a Galra?” he asked.

Keith paused, mystified. “Why would I wish that?”

Lance shrugged. “I dunno, maybe your Galra side is just…drawn naturally to other Galra? And you’d never have to hold yourself back; you could be as rough as you wanted –”

“What makes you think I want to be rough with you?” Keith questioned. 

“You just fucked me against a wall,” Lance pointed out. “Anyway, you didn’t answer the question.”

“ _You_ wanted me to. And I don’t wish you were a Galra,” Keith told him. “I’ve thought about being with another Galra and it doesn’t hold the same appeal as being with you.”

“And what appeal is that?”

Keith chuckled. “Hm. Let’s just say I enjoy the way others stare when they see us together.”

Lance let that sink in. “Wait,” he said, “you…you like _showing me off_?”

“It’s not my fault you’re so pretty,” Keith purred. 

Lance yelped indignantly. “Says _you_ – mmph!” Keith’s fingers were back in his mouth again. 

“So pretty,” Keith repeated, low and in his ear, and the atmosphere shifted from afterglow to round two real quick. “Everyone’s always looking at you, everywhere we go – I want to give them something to really look at.” Keith’s tone darkened. “Sometimes I imagine parading you around as my pet, collared and leashed, bared for everyone to see, with my marks all over you.”

Lance almost inhaled his tongue, sucking on Keith’s fingers hard and moaning deep in his throat. 

“Everyone would be jealous, but the other Galra would be the worst. They would look at you and think about you on your knees, spread out under them, choking on their knot and filled with their seed, but they would know that only I can have you, because you’re mine, and I’m yours, and I won’t let anyone else touch you,” Keith growled. His fingers curled in Lance’s mouth, a kind of caress, before slipping out as his softening cock did. It was followed by a veritable flood of fluid. 

Lance whined at the loss. Keith rolled him onto his back. “Y’know,” Lance mumbled while he still had some coherency left, “your Galra side is a lot more, uh…blunt.”

“I’m going to fuck you with my tongue now,” Keith replied, settling between his legs. “How’s that for bluntness?”

Lance shuddered all over, legs splaying wider, much to Keith’s satisfaction. Keith wasted no time in hitching Lance’s legs up over his shoulders and licking at where his cock had been minutes before, where his come was still leaking out and dripping warmly into the crack of Lance’s ass. 

Keith wasn’t deterred by the mess, and instead seemed delighted with it – he palmed at Lance’s thighs and spread the mess around, streaking his legs and hips with it, laving his tongue over the come layering Lance’s belly from his own spending, paying special attention to the scar. He gave Lance’s cock a playful lick before moving down to his balls, suckling and stroking them until Lance was arching up and squirming, staring down at him desperately, staring at the come smearing his body and Keith’s bloodied lips. 

“You are so gross,” Lance whispered, though it came out more awed than disgusted. 

Keith’s grin was a savage slice of white in the growing darkness. “You love it,” he retorted, and spread Lance’s cheeks apart with his thumbs, shoving his face eagerly between Lance’s legs. Lance threw his head back, arousal and oversensitively crashing over him again like a tidal wave, drowning him, stripping away whatever shreds of dignity he had left, if he’d had any to begin with. 

Lance became a writhing, begging mess as Keith’s tongue and fingers worked inside of him with purpose, slippery and searching, and then Keith’s forefinger rubbed right against his prostate and Lance had to close his eyes, crying wordlessly and bucking up into it. Keith hummed and twisted his fingers sharply, licking sloppily around where he was stretching Lance open, where his rim was pink and tender and so sensitive it made Lance shout, eyes watering. 

His toes curled and his hands grasped at the sheets and the pillows and his spine arched and his vision blurred and when Keith swallowed down his cock, Lance forgot how to breathe, moaning until his throat was hoarse. He needed to come, was going to come, yet when he opened his eyes he saw Keith’s cock curving up again, fully primed, and another need overtook him.

“Fuck me,” Lance pleaded, barely recognizing his own voice, it was so wrecked. Keith groaned around his cock and Lance only stopped himself from coming by sheer stubbornness. “Wanna come with you in me, now, now, _Keith._ ”

Keith pulled off, wiping a hand over his mouth and pulling his fingers out of Lance with a wet sound, wrapping that same hand around his cock and shuffling forward. Lance waited for the press of Keith into him, but instead all he got was the slick nudge of the tip at his hole, sliding through the mess. Keith smirked, but it was strained, and Lance knew he was aching for it too. “Tell me how much you want it,” Keith said, rolling his hips in slow, simulated fuck against him. “And maybe I’ll give it to you.”

Lance’s words tumbled out in a disjointed rush, languages tangling as his filter fizzled away in the face of desperation. “Please, carajo, te quiero mucho, Keith, want you more than anything, me vuelves loco, wanna feel you for days, eres mi todo, _please_ , fuck, _¡ponlo en mi culo, cabrón!_ ”

Keith did. Lance came almost as soon as Keith breached him, head lolling to the side and body going limp as he twitched and shuddered with aftershocks, every push of Keith’s cock into him another echo of climax. Lance moaned at the soothing spread of Keith’s hands on his body, arching weakly into it as Keith lifted his hips with both hands on his ass, kneading the muscle and stroking at where Lance was stretched around him. 

Keith’s lips brushed over the scar, over his chest, over all the bruises and bite marks, murmuring sweet nothings and slowing his thrusts, telling Lance how good he was, such a good boy, such a good mate, so beautiful, so perfect. Lance trembled and clung to him, burying his face in Keith’s neck when Keith’s movements stuttered and he followed Lance over the edge, murmuring his name like a prayer. 

Lance lost track of time after that; maybe he fell asleep or maybe he was just dazed and exhausted, but either way he could do nothing but lay there and make soft, distressed sounds when Keith rose from the nest and moved away. “No,” Lance tried to say, but it just came out as a whimper. The air was cool and Lance shivered, curling into himself, soreness spreading through his body and an ache blooming between his legs. His wrists had started to hurt again, too.

But somewhere between consciousness and oblivion, Keith returned, answering Lance’s plaintive sounds with comforting noises of his own and gathering him up in his arms. Lance was too tired to even react, a gangly tangle of limp limbs as Keith carried him into the next room and eased him into the bath carefully. The heat of the water was relaxing, though not as relaxing as Keith kissing his brow and moving a warm, damp cloth over Lance’s skin, wiping away all the drying fluids on his torso. He coaxed Lance’s legs apart and cleaned him carefully there too, stopping and stroking Lance’s hair whenever he winced.

He cleaned the scratches with a new cloth, quiet and intent, and smeared some sort of salve over the puncture marks on his shoulder that made Lance sigh and slump against him gratefully. The sting was gone, replaced by a cool numbness, like the best aloe in the world. Keith applied bandages over the wound and started to move away again, but Lance grabbed at him frantically. 

“Don’t go,” he whispered, and Keith’s violet brow furrowed, yellow eyes soft and concerned. He helped Lance out of the bath with an arm around his waist and wrapped him up in a fluffy towel. Lance shivered and swayed unsteadily on his feet. Keith made a worried sound and scooped him right back up again. 

Lance felt like a sack of potatoes, but wasn’t sure he could walk, so. Plus, he was having difficulty keeping his eyes open, so it was a relief when Keith set him down in the nest (hopefully on the cleaner side) and snuggled up to him after throwing a blanket over them both.

Lance curled against his chest, eyelids heavy; Keith’s arm a secure weight around his waist. “Love you,” he mumbled, nuzzling into Keith’s hair, inhaling his scent, their scent, which permeated the entire room. Maybe Keith’s Galra was rubbing off on him, because somehow, it smelled like home. 

Keith nuzzled him back, purring. “Love you too,” he said. “Goodnight, Lance.”

“Dulces sueños, bat boy.”

*

When morning came, the word “sore” was redefined and given human embodiment in the form of Lance Espinosa, overconfident cockslut extraordinaire. 

He tried to sit up and immediately regretted being born. “Ohhh, no, no, _pinche mierda_ –”

There was a flash of movement from the corner of his eye and then Keith was kneeling next to him, shaking his head and easing him back down into the nest. The purple skin was gone, along with the ears and claws and fangs and yellow eyes, and Lance had a brief moment of mourning for the loss of Full Galra Keith before he tried to move again and decided Full Galra Keith was a menace and his absence was for the best. Keith was also fully dressed, which was sad, but at the same time Lance didn’t think he could handle anymore sexscapades anytime soon. 

“You should probably just lie down,” Keith said, chewing his lip and patting Lance’s unbitten shoulder apologetically. Lance huffed when Keith tucked the blanket back around him. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?”

“Eleven,” Lance muttered, throwing a hand over his face. Keith made a dismayed sound and Lance sighed, cracking an eye open. “Okay, so it’s like a five, maybe a seven when I move.”

Keith opened his mouth. Lance stabbed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare apologize, bat boy. Don’t do it. This was my idea; this is my burden to bear.”

“But it was my dick,” Keith pointed out, trying to keep a straight face. 

“There is _nothing_ wrong with your dick, bat boy,” Lance said with feeling. Keith’s mouth twitched. “No regrets there.” He shifted and hissed. “Okay, maybe a couple. Like, the wall fucking –”

Keith covered his face. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“It was super hot,” Lance offered. “But I’m gonna need some recovery time before we do anything like that again.”

“I know,” Keith said, sitting down and petting Lance’s hair. “You should rest for today, at least. Do you want me to move you to the bed?”

Lance yawned, and eyed the distance between the nest and the bed. “Not worth it,” he decided. “Just gimme a few more blankets and I’ll be snug as a bug.”

Keith gave him a small, hesitant smile. “Okay. The others are having breakfast; I can bring you a plate after I find the blankets.”

Lance grinned sleepily back. “Hell yeah, bat boy.”

“Be back soon,” Keith promised. He left and Lance promptly fell asleep again.

*

When Lance woke up again he was warmer than before and found three new blankets had been heaped onto the nest, and also found that Hunk was sitting three feet away and staring at him with narrowed eyes, surrounded by various pill bottles. 

Lance had a small heart attack. “What the fuck, dude!” he yelped, making sure the blankets gave him full coverage because, hello, he was naked and Hunk had seen him in his birthday suit more than enough times already. 

“See?” Keith said from where he was leaning against the wall, sounding miffed. “I didn’t murder him, alright?”

Hunk ignored Keith. “Are you okay?” Hunk asked, arms folded and forehead doing the frowny mom thing it always did when Lance made poor life decisions, which was usually. “You look like you’ve been through a meat grinder, Lance.”

“I mean, I sort of have,” Lance said. Keith put his head in his hands and groaned.

Hunk wrinkled his nose. “I don’t wanna know,” he said. “But seriously. Keith said you were in pain, so I brought some NSAIDs and Tylenol, and then some Tums in case breakfast comes back up or anything. And then I had to check that you were alive and not like, mauled and bleeding out.”

Lance blinked. “Thanks, but Keith wouldn’t do that to me, bud.”

“Uh-huh…but, Lance, the noises last night didn’t sound like Keith. It sounded like…like _animals_.”

Lance cleared his throat. “Please tell me you didn’t hear everything.”

“Earplugs and stone walls are a blessing,” Hunk said. “But I heard enough to be freaked out and thoroughly afraid of what I would find in the morning.”

Lance burrowed deeper into the blankets. “Let’s just say,” he mumbled, “that nothing that happened last night was unwanted. Let’s just say that I…may have possibly even suggested it.”

Hunk sighed heavily. “Why are you like this.”

“I’m a disaster,” Lance agreed, but beamed up at him. “At least I have you. Thanks for the drugs, dude. You said you brought food, too?”

“Here,” Keith said, picking up a plate from the bedside table and bringing it over. “Pancakes.”

“Crepes,” Hunk corrected. “With some weird native fruit that tastes kinda like strawberries.”

Lance made a strangled noise. Keith flushed. Hunk looked anxiously at him. “Wait, I thought you liked strawberries –”

“Lance _loves_ strawberries,” Keith said innocently. “Don’t you, Lance?”

“Yep,” Lance gritted out. “Hit me up, Hunk.”

“I don’t wanna know,” Hunk repeated, looking between them before taking the plate from Keith and handing it to Lance. “I really don’t wanna know.” Keith also handed him a glass of water and Hunk started unscrewing bottles and counting out pills. 

“Does everyone else think Keith murdered me, too?” Lance asked as Hunk gave him a selection of painkillers. He swallowed them down with the water and started nibbling on one of the crepes. Oh, sweet mother of God that was delicious. Lance thanked the Universe for bringing the ray of sunshine that was Hunk into his life. 

Hunk snorted. “Coran and Allura were disturbingly intrigued, Shiro went on a long night hike, and Pidge said you were probably just being a freak.”

“Pidge is a genius,” Lance said, mouth full of crepe and fruit. “And this is the food of the gods, oh man, this is great.”

“Thanks,” Hunk said. He hesitated, gaze lingering on Lance’s bandaged shoulder and wrists. “You’re really okay?”

“Yeah,” Lance assured him. “Thanks for checking up, but I’m all good. Well, maybe not _all_ good – but I will be soon, ‘kay?” He glanced over at Keith, who had wandered into the bath and was gathering up the discarded towels and washcloths from last night. “He takes care of me,” Lance added quietly. “He’s really good to me, Hunk, I promise.”

Hunk finally seemed to relax. “Good,” he said. “I’m glad. I was kinda worried I was gonna have to beat him up for you or something.”

“He beats himself up enough as it is,” Lance sighed. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Lance needs to sleep,” Keith said from the doorway, and, uh-oh, the violet was returning to his skin. Hunk noticed and got to his feet hastily, leaving the pill bottles. 

“Right. Rest up, feel better,” Hunk said. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Trust me, I won’t let him,” Keith said, and Hunk seemed content with that, and headed to the door with a nod, leaving the two of them alone again. Keith was at his side again almost instantly. 

“You don’t need to look all panicky,” Lance chuckled. “It’s just Hunk. He’s a mother hen, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Keith deflated a little, the purple flickering away. “I know…it just felt like he was intruding. I had to stop myself from hovering around you and snapping at him.”

“The protective instincts are kicking in at full force, huh?” Lance asked, secretly pleased. 

Keith hunched his shoulders. “Guess so. Listen…I know you don’t want me to apologize, but I know last night was. A lot. And –”

“And I loved it, so stop right there,” Lance interrupted. 

Keith half-glared at him. “I also know you have no sense of self-preservation, and I didn’t know what to expect because I’d never given my Galra side that much control before, but if we do this again we need to set better boundaries so you don’t end up like this afterwards.”

“I mean, this isn’t half-bad, I’m getting breakfast in bed and – wait, _again_?” Lance’s eyes widened. “You want to do that again?”

Keith quickly backtracked. “No – I mean, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to ever do it again, but I just thought –”

“Of course I want to,” Lance said, giddy with just the idea of another last night. “Wow. I thought _you_ wouldn’t want to. But you liked it too?”

Keith shrugged. “Um…well, for me it was…it felt good, I guess, to let go.” He peered at Lance shyly. “If I ever said anything that made you uncomfortable…”

“Like wha – oh. Heh.” Lance went pink. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. Kinda shocked by how kinky your Galra side is, but hey. I wasn’t exactly complaining.”

“The thing is,” Keith started, and stopped, scratching his head awkwardly. “You know that was still me, right? It was all me, just. More…intense.”

“Oh,” Lance said, turning pinker. “You without a filter, then?”

Keith turned pink too. “I wasn’t the only one saying…things.”

“Things were said,” Lance agreed. 

“We can forget them, if you want,” Keith offered. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Lance countered.

Keith chuckled in silent agreement, and lay down next to Lance as he ate, closing his eyes. Lance paused mid-chew when Keith’s breathing evened out, and he realized Keith must be even more exhausted than he was. And Lance had him running around fetching blankets and food and worried best friends all morning.

“Best boyfriend ever,” Lance whispered, leaning forward and kissing the tip of his nose.

*

Once Lance had finished breakfast he fell asleep again and drifted in and out of it for a while after, the pain meds working their way through his system and adding to his drowsiness. The blankets were a fluffy cocoon around him and Keith was a solid warmth against his chest, snoring softly and occasionally nuzzling at Lance in his sleep. Lance couldn’t explain it, but for the first time in ages he felt completely and utterly safe. Here, he could forget about Zarkon and Voltron, if only for a little while, surrounded by the scent of his mate and overwhelmed with love. Goddamn, had Keith infused him with some other Galra bonding hormone last night? Or was he just that cheesy?

Lance was pretty sure he knew the answer to that.

Sometime around noon – or, well, Lance didn’t really know when, only that the lights were a pleasant yellow – Hunk came back with lunch and Shiro. Keith was still out cold, but Lance managed to sit up, yawning and mumbling a thank you. Hunk gave him a thumbs up and whispered loudly, “I’m glad you’re still alive.”

“Keith looks like the dead one now,” Shiro pointed out, eyebrows raised. “Although he sounded _very_ alive last night.” Lance could feel Shiro’s judgment through four layers of blankets. 

“Hey, you were the one who said we needed to wind down and relax!” Lance retorted defensively. 

“You and I have very different definitions of relaxation,” Hunk muttered. 

“Hey!” Lance squawked. Keith shifted in his sleep, ears twitching.

Shiro smiled and shook his head, walking over to the nest with the two plates. “Relax, Lance. We’re on your side. And I’m glad you two are…bonding.”

“Keep your dad jokes out of this,” Lance grumbled, making grabby hands for the plate. 

When Shiro kneeled down to put the plates next to Lance, Keith suddenly bolted upright, eyes narrowed and yellow, nostrils flared and ears pinned back. Shiro hastily put down the plate and stumbled away, eyes wide, and Keith snarled at him, lunging forward to get between Lance and Shiro. “Whoa!” Lance said, putting a hand on Keith’s chest. “Chill, bat boy!”

Keith growled low in his throat. Shiro held his human hand up in surrender. “Keith…it’s just me.”

Keith’s growl broke off abruptly. He blinked, yellow light flickering out, and shrank back. “Shiro,” he whispered, unsteady and confused. “I’m…sorry. I don’t know what…why I…”

“Your Galra side is just protective,” Shiro said, shrugging apologetically. “Guess it doesn’t take kindly to intruders.”

“You didn’t react that way to me,” Hunk said, staying at a safe distance and eying Keith warily. 

Keith flinched. “I wanted to chase you out, too,” he admitted miserably. “I’m sorry.” He attempted to hide in the blankets and make himself as small as possible.

Lance poked him hard in the ribs. “Stop it. You were just startled and reacted instinctively, that’s not your fault.”

“Lance is right,” Shiro said, and _wow_ , Lance did not think he would ever hear those words come out of Shiro’s mouth. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.”

Hunk relaxed a little. “Huh, it’s kinda like when you wake up a cat and they freak out. Or when you try to take away a dog’s favorite toy.”

“Very flattering comparisons,” Keith said dryly as Lance exclaimed, “Favorite toy?!”

Shiro chuckled. “What Hunk means is that your Galra instincts are just a part of who you are, and we’re all learning to get used to them. Don’t feel like the bad guy, Keith, because you aren’t. Even if you hadn’t snapped out of it, I don’t think you would’ve hurt me. Would you?”

Keith bit his lip. “No, I just wanted to…to scare you off,” he mumbled. “Not hurt you. I don’t – my Galra side doesn’t see you as…as a _threat_. You’re still all…family to me. I just need…”

“Space?” Shiro offered. 

Keith nodded and ducked his head, but the tension eased from his body. “Yeah.”

“Well, this week is all about giving each other space,” Shiro said easily. “Now that we’re not rushing from mission to mission with Zarkon on our tail, you have some time to get in touch with your Galra side, and maybe even control it better.”

“Maybe,” Keith said, glancing at Lance’s bandaged shoulder and looking doubtful. “I hope so.”

“I believe in you,” Shiro said earnestly. 

“Soo…are you guys gonna have a heart to heart, or are you gonna eat your lunch?” Hunk asked. 

Lance’s stomach grumbled loudly. Shiro grinned. “Well, bon appétit. And…whenever the two of you feel up to moving, there’s a little beach half a mile north that I think you should check out. Don’t stay cooped up in here forever.” He and Hunk left, and Keith and Lance set upon the food like starving beasts.

Lance popped another painkiller when he was done and washed it down with the water Hunk had left them. He noticed Keith trying to stealthily get some painkillers, squinting at the label to read the dosage instructions.

“Hey,” Lance said, leaning over, “are you sore too?”

Keith nodded reluctantly. “I feel like I got run over by a train,” he muttered. 

“Take two,” Lance advised. “Wait a few minutes for it to kick in.”

Keith did, silently swallowing the pills and putting his clean plate aside, laying back down in the nest and staring at the ceiling with a furrowed brow. 

“Hey,” Lance said again, wanting to curl against him but remembering what Keith had said about needing space. “Are you okay?”

Keith exhaled. “I think so,” he murmured. “I just feel…different. I spent so long trying to keep that side of me hidden, and now that I’ve let it show I don’t think I can hide it again. It’s…hard to fight it.”

“Then don’t,” Lance advised. “Maybe that’s how you control it – just stop fighting it.”

Keith frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sure it does. It’s a part of you whether you like it or not, and denying that is only gonna make it worse, Keith. Besides…it’s not really a bad side of you.” 

“You would say that,” Keith snorted. “I don’t think your perception of good and bad is the same as normal people’s.”

“Ouch,” Lance said. “Aren’t you glad you accidentally mated a freak like me instead of someone boring, though?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I’m so lucky.” But his expression sobered. “I wish we were normal, you know. God, Lance, I wish everything could be simple and easy between us. But it can’t ever be like that.”

“Says who?” Lance retorted, and this time he gave in to the urge to curl against Keith, stroking his hair away from his face. “This is simple. This is easy. This is our normal.”

“You know what I mean,” Keith said. 

“Yeah, yeah, you wish you were human and you hadn’t taken my virginity via marathon alien sex. Come on, Keith, where’s your sense of adventure?”

Keith threw up his hands. “Our whole damn lives are adventure after adventure, Lance! Is it wrong that I just want – sometimes I just wish there was something routine, something familiar, something anchoring me?”

“This,” Lance said. 

“This isn’t normal,” Keith insisted. “Trust me, Lance, this is weird and we are weird and normal couples do not –”

“This,” Lance repeated, pressing his face against Keith’s neck and exhaling. Keith stuttered off into silence. “You’re familiar, for me. I know what you mean, about wanting a constant in your life. I used to miss Earth and the people I left back there every day…God, I missed home so much it hurt. But…I think you make it easier, Keith. I still miss them, but.” He swallowed and closed his eyes. “Being with you feels like home.”

“Lance,” Keith whispered.

“I know you never really had a home, before,” Lance said, raising his head and looking down at him. “But you have one now, okay? For as long as you want, you have one now, here.” And he took Keith’s hand and put it over his own chest, where his heart beat just below the surface. 

Keith’s eyes looked very shiny. “Thank you,” he said, choked. “I’m…I’m so fucking glad you’re here, Lance.”

The scar twinged and Lance knew what he meant. “Yeah,” he agreed, laying back down with a sigh, “me too.”

There was a silence and Lance was like ninety percent sure that Keith was trying not to cry. “Hey,” he said, sitting up as much as his aching muscles would allow, “on a lighter note, do you wanna play a game?”

Keith eyed him. “What game?”

“Hmm,” Lance said, “how about Truth or Dare?” He paused. “Okay, maybe just Truth, because I’m not sure either of us can really move right now. Truth or stationary Dare.”

“Oh my god,” Keith said, throwing an arm over his eyes. “We have been dating for nine months, Lance.”

“So what?” Lance pouted. “It’s not like we know _everything_ about each other. C’mon, just play it until the painkillers kick in, okay?”

“Fine,” Keith said, mouth twitching in amusement. “You first, then. Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” Lance said.

Keith, who had apparently been expecting this, grinned and said, “Don’t talk for the next five minutes.”

Lance gaped at him in disbelief. “That’s not _fair_ –!”

“Okay, okay, fine. Uh…next time you see Pidge, squeeze their cheeks and tell them they’re adorable.”

“Do you want me to get shanked in my sleep?” Lance exclaimed. 

“I’ll hold them off,” Keith chuckled. 

“Your turn,” Lance declared. “Truth or Dare?”

Keith chewed his lip. “…Truth.”

Lance narrowed his eyes. “When did you lose your virginity?”

“Wow,” Keith grumbled. “Define what constitutes loss of virginity.”

Lance made a rude gesture with his hands. 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Fifteen,” he said. 

“ _What_?!” Lance screeched. “How did you get laid at fifteen?!”

Keith’s expression closed off, gaze slipping away from Lance’s. “Long story.”

“Well, can I hear it?”

“I was drunk and I didn’t know him,” Keith snapped. “That’s all. Truth or Dare?”

“No, Keith, wait,” Lance said, putting a hand on his arm, “what happened? Did he…did he hurt you?”

Keith frowned. “I made stupid decisions,” he retorted. “Whatever happened, I was asking for it, trust me.” He sighed, and his expression softened slightly. “It wasn’t…what you’re thinking. I was just…lonely, and desperate, and really messed up. Some people are into that.”

Lance kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Keith wrapped an arm around him. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m over it. Now I can make all my stupid decisions with you instead.”

“Aww,” Lance mumbled. 

“Truth or Dare?” Keith asked him again.

“Mm…Truth, why not.”

Keith thought about it for a few seconds. Then, “What are you most afraid of?”

Lance blinked. “Shit, man, I dunno…I’m pretty claustrophobic. Or maybe…space. Yeah, space. Not the stars and planets and all that, but…y’know, the vastness of it. And all the crazy stuff out there, like black holes. Man, fuck black holes.” He shuddered.

Keith patted his shoulder. “I won’t let the black holes get you, Lance.”

“Thanks, Keith. Truth or Dare?”

“Truth,” Keith murmured, sounding sleepy. 

“What are _you_ most afraid of?”

“Being alone again,” Keith said, yawning. Lance’s heart skipped a beat. “Or hurting someone I love.”

Lance stared at him and wondered what he’d done to get the best boyfriend in the Universe. He tugged Keith closer and wrapped around him like a monkey. “That’s it,” he said, “I’m never letting go of you, bat boy.”

“Wha – Lance, you’re so bony, ow!” Keith squirmed futilely. “Guys, help! Lance is smothering me!” he shouted, his voice echoing off the stone walls. Lance giggled and clung tighter. Finally Keith gave up, going limp and huffing in amusement, flicking Lance’s cheekbone. “Why are you like this?”

“It’s your fault,” Lance said, blowing a raspberry into his shoulder. “You’re too perfect; I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Keith flushed. “I’m not perfect at all –”

“Sorry, what was that?” Lance said. “Couldn’t hear it over your overwhelming perfection.”

“That doesn’t even make _sense_ –”

“I love my perfect half alien bat boyfriend!” Lance yelled. “Even if his dick did temporarily incapacitate me – mmmphhh!”

Keith had slapped a hand over his mouth. “You’re impossible,” he said, but he was laughing.

“I think you mean _incredible_ ,” Lance said.

“That too,” Keith agreed. “Have I ever told you how much I love your eyes?”

Lance’s face felt very warm. “Pfff, like you don’t have the most beautiful eyes in existence.”

“Your eyes remind me of the ocean,” Keith said seriously, running a fingertip absently over Lance’s jaw. “Or the sky.”

“That’s really gay, Keith,” Lance told him.

“Yeah,” Keith sighed. “I’m really gay, too.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

Keith tried to shove his entire face in Lance’s neck and cooed happily. “Okay, I think the painkillers just kicked in,” Lance said. “Keith, are you…Keith?”

Keith was asleep. 

Lance smiled and pet his hair. 

*

The next three days were pretty fantastic, minus Pidge shrieking and throwing their fork at Lance when he followed through with his dare. True to his word, Keith’s Galra side followed through too, and Pidge did not throw any more forks in Lance’s general direction. 

Lance had honestly only ever thought of Keith’s Galra side as a force to be reckoned with; something dark and dangerous and really fucking hot…but he was beginning to realize that there was a lot more to it than that. Like the mated bond that existed between them, Keith’s Galra side was protective – sometimes to the point of terrifying others – but when it came down to it, it was really just deeply, deeply empathetic. Lance had never felt so cared for in his life, and it wasn’t as though he’d experienced a lack of caring people – he’d just never experienced anything like this. Keith hardly ever left his side, and when he did it was to do or fetch things for him. 

Whenever Lance showed the slightest sign of pain or even discomfort, Keith would immediately fuss over him. Whenever he complained about being hungry or thirsty or cold or just bored, Keith would do something about it. And the really weird thing was that Lance wasn’t getting tired of his hovering. Not at all. If anything, he was just as clingy as Keith. Lance wasn’t sure, but it felt like something between them had shifted; changed somehow. They were always clingy during Keith’s heats, but…not like this. Being with Keith felt more familiar than ever; like when their skin touched something inside of Lance responded to something inside of Keith, two magnets drawn together by unseen yet immeasurably powerful fields. They seemed to fit together so perfectly, snuggled up in that ridiculous nest with their lips on each other’s skin and their limbs interlocking. 

They spent a lot of time just talking to each other – sometimes playing silly games like Truth or Dare and Never Have I Ever, but mostly it was just…talking. A lot. Keith had never been much of a talker, but he answered Lance’s questions and he asked Lance some things, too – about his family, mostly, about his home and his life before the Garrison. 

Keith told him about his life before the Garrison, too. He told it in a reluctant, disjointed kind of way, retelling fights and nights with strangers casually even though Lance could see how much they had affected him. He told Lance about meeting Shiro, and about losing Shiro, with far less disinterest. He even admitted that he’d begun to suspect he might not be entirely human a long time before the quintessence incident. 

“I always sort of…identified with the Galra, in a way,” Keith murmured, eyes downcast. “That was probably why I hated them so much. I was afraid of what identifying with them could mean…I was guilty that I even identified with them in the first place.”

“What do you mean, identified?” Lance asked quietly, propping himself up on one elbow and leaning over Keith, who was laying down in the nest, staring at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Keith said, shaking his head. “It’s hard to explain. It was more of an unconscious, instinctive thing…like I could understand why they did certain things; I recognized my own patterns of thought in theirs. And, I mean, we got Red from a Galra ship, Lance. There’s a reason she chose me, and I think deep down I knew that reason from the beginning, and so did she.”

“Huh,” Lance said. “So…how do you think? How do they think?”

Keith glanced at him. “Galra see situations in shades of gray. They…we…understand the concepts of good and evil, but we also understand that it’s not that simple. That sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good, to get the best outcome in the big scheme of things.”

“So that’s why you suggested we leave Allura behind when Zarkon captured her?” Lance asked carefully.

“Yeah,” Keith said. “But, listen, the way I think – the way I am – it’s only half Galra. The other half is human, which makes everything messy and confusing and…emotional.” He wrinkled his nose. “Not that Galra don’t have emotions – they do – but their emotions don’t usually get in the way like human emotions do.”

“Get in the way?”

“Mhm,” Keith said. “Remember when the Galra threatened to hurt the Sylphe princesses to persuade Silese to betray us?” Lance nodded mutely. “Galra would never do what Silese did. They would let the ones close to them die to remain loyal to what really mattered, whatever that may be.”

Lance frowned. “Oh. That’s…kind of messed up.”

“The exception is a Galra’s mate,” Keith added. “Still messed up, I know. But a Galra’s sense of logic goes out the window where their mate is concerned.” His mouth curved up softly. “For me, anyway.”

Lance made a quiet sound and kissed his forehead. Keith reached up, hand settling on the back of Lance’s neck, proprietary and tender all at once. Lance tilted his head. “Hmm. I wonder if…do you think Zarkon has a mate? Maybe we could use that against –”

Keith’s eyes narrowed. “No,” he interrupted. “Zarkon isn’t…he’s different from the other Galra. He’s learned the secret of immortality; I doubt he would let himself be burdened by a mate.”

There was something else. Lance furrowed his brow. “How…how else is he different, Keith?”

“His eyes,” Keith said abruptly. “They’re not yellow, like the rest of us…them. Not even Haggar has eyes like that. Zarkon’s eyes are the same color as Galra tech, like the Druids’ magic or Shiro’s arm. It’s like he’s...a robot, or something.”

“Shit,” Lance breathed. “I mean…I guess he’d have to be at least partly inorganic to survive for ten thousand years, right?”

“Maybe,” Keith said, ears flicking. “Anyway, he doesn’t feel things the way other Galra do. He doesn’t feel love, that’s for sure.”

Lance considered that, sighing and tucking his head against Keith’s shoulder. “Why do you think Galra have mates in the first place? Seems kind of inconvenient, don’t you think?” Keith raised an eyebrow. “I mean, us being mates doesn’t benefit the Galra species at all. No Galra babies, and I’m not even a Galra.”

Keith shrugged. “I don’t think reproduction is necessarily the point. I doubt Galra have any difficulty with that, mates or not. And Galra have different sexualities, like humans, not all of which are compatible with reproduction. Like mine.”

“So? What’s the point, then?”

“I don’t think Galra are meant to be alone,” Keith said.

“But you were alone,” Lance murmured. 

“It was awful,” Keith whispered, rolling onto his side, facing Lance fully and burrowing into the curve of Lance’s body. “I don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

“Hey, shh,” Lance said, taken aback. “You won’t, okay? You won’t be alone again, Keith.”

“I hate them,” Keith said, muffled. “Whoever left me on Earth…I hate them.”

“They must have done it for a really good reason,” Lance pointed out. “Like, I don’t know, maybe they didn’t want you growing up as a soldier in an evil empire?”

Keith sniffed. “Why couldn’t they have just…just told me? Why did they think it was a good idea to just leave me with humans when at any moment I could have…” He broke off with a frustrated sound. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t care about all of this, and I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not rambling about things that don’t matter –”

“I care,” Lance said fiercely, lifting Keith’s head up to his. “Bat boy, you know I care. I complain to you eighty percent of the time and you listen, and that’s about stupid shit. I think you’re allowed to ramble all you want about things that actually matter a lot.”

Keith stared up at him with those huge, violet eyes. “I…I guess I’m not used to anyone wanting to listen.” He reached up and stroked Lance’s jaw, wondering. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, bat boy, anytime,” Lance replied, chest tight. “And for the record, anyone who doesn’t want to listen to you is dumb. You’re a smart cookie.” He tapped the side of Keith’s head. “And I love your voice.”

Keith’s face broke into an unexpected grin. “Oh, you love my voice, do you?” he said mischievously. 

Lance mock-glared at him. “Not like _that_ , you jerk –”

Keith’s grin widened and he snaked an arm around Lance’s waist, finding his ass and squeezing. “You _do_.”

Lance yelped, laughing and slapping at him. “Hands off, you filthy animal!”

Keith snorted and bit his earlobe. “I was trying to lighten the mood. Did it work?”

“I dunno if the mood is _lighter_ , but it’s definitely changed,” Lance said, wiggling his eyebrows and his ass. 

Keith rolled his eyes and smacked him with a pillow. “You are a sex fiend, and I worry about you.”

“Sex fiend? Nah. Snuggle fiend. C’mere, bat boy.”

Keith did.

*

On the fourth day, Shiro suggested they all go hiking together. 

In hindsight, Lance didn’t know why he’d agreed to this. Yet there he was, trudging through a canyon with Team Voltron, trying not to limp visibly and whining every one hundred feet. Okay, so his ass didn’t really hurt that bad anymore, and his shoulder and wrists were mostly healed, but it was hot as balls on Mautari with roughly five hundred percent humidity, and Lance was Not Feeling It. Neither was Keith, judging by his sweaty, slicked back hair and even sweatier, bright red face, but he was less vocal about his disgruntlement. Meanwhile, Pidge was skipping along like a goddamn woodland elf as Hunk managed to smile through the pain alongside Coran, who was obliviously explaining the planet’s history. And of course Shiro and Allura were at the front of the pack, barely breaking a sweat like the beautiful jocks they were. 

“Listen, Princess, I really appreciate the thought you put into choosing a vacation spot, but could you maybe have found somewhere that feels slightly less like Louisiana in July?” Lance called. 

“This weather is temperate, paladin!” Allura called back over her shoulder. “Or would you prefer we stay on Othryn 611, which is made up entirely of frozen tundra and constantly experiences blizzards?”

“I would prefer to stay inside,” Lance muttered under his breath. Pidge rolled their eyes at him.

“The fresh air is good for you, Lance!” Shiro said. “And exercise is good for sore muscles –”

Keith flicked a pebble at him. Snickering, Shiro shut up. 

“How long,” Hunk panted, “is this canyon, exactly?”

“Oh, it’s only about another mile until we reach the falls,” Coran replied brightly.

“Whoa, wait, what? The falls?” Lance exclaimed.

“Yes, the waterfalls,” Allura said. “You didn’t think we were just walking through this canyon aimlessly, did you?” She laughed. “I’m not that cruel.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Keith mumbled. Shiro flicked a pebble at him. 

“Chin up,” Allura chuckled. “The Trinausi Falls are truly a sight to see.”

*

They were pretty amazing. 

The Trinausi Falls turned out to be a collection of many waterfalls all cascading over the same green cliffs, creating a huge pool which turned into a whitewater river a couple miles down. The water was a vivid turquoise, so clear that Lance could see the pale limestone riverbed as he waded gleefully into the pool. Little red fish darted away from his feet, their frilled fins swaying in the current. Lance tipped his head up to the sun, which was bigger and brighter than Earth’s, but with his eyes shut he could almost imagine it was home. 

“The water’s nice!” Lance said to Keith, who was the only one still on shore, eying the water like it was going to scald him. “Come on, it’s fun, I promise!”

Keith folded his arms. “No thanks…I’m okay. I’ll just stay over here.”

Pidge splashed him. “You’re red as a tomato! Just get in and cool off.”

Shiro and Allura were swimming out towards the falls, into deeper water. Hunk and Coran were looking in the reeds excitedly and catching things that looked like really fucked up frogs with too many legs and eyestalks. And Keith was still just standing there. 

Lance huffed and stalked up to him. “Keith, it’s fun. Just have fun for once; I swear it won’t kill you.” And then, with minor difficulty, he grabbed a very confused Keith around the waist, half-slung him over his shoulder, and tossed him into the water. 

Keith shrieked in terror and landed with a huge splash in the barely six-foot deep water, spluttering and gasping and flailing his arms around. It took Lance about five seconds to figure it out. 

“Oh, shit,” he said with feeling, and waded out to Keith, pulling him back into the shallower water. “You can’t swim?” 

Keith, panting, glared at him from behind soaking wet bangs. “What does it _look like_?!” he snapped, spitting out water. “No I can’t swim!”

“Nice going, Lance,” Pidge said, shaking their head and swimming over to Hunk and Coran. “You almost drowned your boyfriend.”

“I didn’t know!” Lance exclaimed. “How was I supposed to know that Keith Kogane didn’t excel at literally everything?!”

Keith was unsubtly clinging to him. “There weren’t exactly lots of pools in the desert!” he squawked. “And I didn’t get swimming lessons from the orphanages, either.”

“Well,” Lance declared, “you’re going to get a swimming lesson now, from me.”

“No!” Keith protested, “Get me out! I don’t want –”

“Uh-uh, bat boy, you’re swimming, and that’s final.”

Keith scrambled away; trying to get back to shore, but Lance grabbed his arm.

“Do you trust me?” 

Keith bit his lip. “…Yes,” he said, in a very small voice.

“Okay,” Lance said. “No more dunking, I promise. We don’t even have to start out with swimming…just floating.” He let go of Keith’s arm and held out both his hands. “I won’t let you drown, bat boy.”

Keith relaxed slightly, and took his hands. “Okay,” he agreed. “Okay.”

*

In what felt like no time, Keith could float on his back like a pro, but when it came to the actual swimming part he still needed some help. Pidge and Hunk had come over to try and help, although Pidge was making snide comments more than actually assisting anyone. 

“Keith, you’re supposed to be treading water, not flailing like a wet cat.”

“Yes, thank you Pidge, we appreciate your very constructive criticism,” Lance gritted out.

Keith did kind of look like a wet cat – especially since the Galra ears were out as Keith’s aggravation manifested physically. “You’ve almost got it,” Hunk told him. “Just, um…panic a little less.”

“Easy for you to say!” Keith spluttered. “You’re like Lance, you’ve been swimming since…since birth, probably –”

“Slight exaggeration,” Hunk said lightly.

“Keith, you just need to calm down!” Pidge chimed in.

Keith’s skin flickered with frustrated purple as he struggled to keep his head above water. Lance briefly weighed the pros and cons in his head, then swam forward and kissed him. 

He’d half expected Keith to struggle and shove him away. But instead, Lance felt the tension drain out of him, his frantic kicking slowing to match Lance’s rhythm, mouth opening in a soft gasp against Lance’s. If Lance really, really focused, he could feel Keith’s presence in his mind, could feel his fading apprehension and quiet adoration, could feel the overwhelming sense of calm that had washed over him at the touch of Lance’s lips. Smiling, Lance thought of the bath in their room, and of them together in it, and so Keith did too, shivering happily and winding his arms around Lance’s waist with a sigh.

Pidge made a barfing sound. Keith flipped them off, but pulled away, looking dazedly down at himself treading water more or less perfectly. “Huh,” he murmured. 

Hunk high-fived Lance. “Dude! Did you just mind-meld again?”

Lance beamed. “I think I did. Keith, I pass my expert swimming skills onto you – or not.”

Keith had attempted to actually swim and ended up doing a very uncoordinated dog paddle instead of the smooth breaststroke Lance had tried to teach him. But hey, he wasn’t drowning, so Lance counted it as a win. 

Shiro and Allura were swimming over, looking on the scene with amusement. “Do we need to talk about PDA again, Lance?” Shiro asked in his best Dad Voice, folding his arms.

“No, Lance was teaching Keith how to swim with the power of alien neural bonds,” Hunk replied seriously. 

Allura paused. “Is that so? You did not know how to swim, Keith?”

Shiro looked surprised. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

Keith ran a hand through his hair and looked away. “It wasn’t important. I didn’t need to swim in space.”

“Being able to swim is a requirement of being my boyfriend, though,” Lance declared. Keith looked at him despairingly. 

“Perhaps we should spend the day doing something other than swimming, then,” Allura suggested, looking a little guilty. “We could explore the surrounding forest, or find the ruins –”

“How about Hide and Seek?” Pidge said.

Coran popped his head up from the reeds, holding another weird frog-thing. “Is that precisely what it sounds like, paladin?”

“It’s a children’s game from Earth,” Pidge explained. “One person, the seeker, counts while everyone else hides. Then when they’re done counting they have to find everyone, and the last person to be found wins.”

“That sounds quite fun!” Allura said. “But we would have to confine the hiding places to the surrounding area, otherwise it would be impossible to find anyone in this jungle.”

“Is it really safe to be hiding alone out there?” Hunk asked nervously. “Are you sure there aren’t like, giant tigers with wings lying in wait for us?”

Allura’s eyes darkened. “Oh, dear…you’re right. I forgot to mention the ferocious, man-eating Gyriktos Cat that makes these trees its home…” She broke off with a giggle. Hunk eyed the forest nervously.

“There are no giant tigers, Hunk,” Shiro assured him. “I’m down for Hide and Seek, why not? Keith, Lance?”

Keith wrinkled his nose. “It’s a kids’ game –”

“Yep, we’re in!” Lance interrupted. He shoved Keith lightly. “At least try to have fun, ‘kay?”

“Alright, who’s the seeker?” Allura asked excitedly. 

“Not it!” Hunk, Pidge, Lance, and Shiro shouted in unison. 

“Oh! Not it!” Allura added hastily. 

Everyone looked at Coran and Keith.

“Apologies, I’m not playing,” Coran said with a shrug. “So I suppose that leaves you, Keith!”

Keith glowered. “Great.”

“Fun,” Lance reminded him. 

Keith’s eyes glinted, a brief flash of yellow. Then he closed his eyes and, without warning, started counting. “One, two, three, four…”

Everyone bolted in opposite directions. “Count to two hundred!” Lance shouted over his shoulder.

“One-twenty is all you’re getting!” Keith retorted. “Five, six, seven –”

“Slow down, bat boy!”

“Lance, shut up and hide!”

“Eight, nine, ten, eleven…”

Lance sprinted towards the treeline. 

The jungle was darker than he’d expected, with a canopy that blocked out most of the sunlight. The light that did come through was dim and green-tinted, and the ground underfoot was spongy with thick blue and purple moss that felt soft on Lance’s bare feet. Keith’s counting and the sound of the falls faded off into the distance as Lance kept running, but he heard a new rumbling sound, and the inviting warble of running water under it. He started towards it, and found himself alongside a fast-flowing stream, a tributary of the main river.

The rumbling sound was farther down it, and Lance jogged towards it with excitement. 

The trees cleared and a smaller pool was revealed, created by the beautiful ribbon of a waterfall tumbling over the mossy rocks. It was enchanting, with trees like willows bowing their heads around it, blooming brightly in the soft light and dropping their petals to the pool below, where they floated like new pennies on the surface. Lance waded through the water, the game temporarily forgotten, looking up at where the falls spilled over the edge. There were birds of some sort in the treetops, darting through the air with raucous sounds, but down here it was quiet, with only the dull roar of the water as company. 

For a moment the waterfall thinned as the current changed, and Lance saw something dark behind the veil of blue. Curious, he started forward, the water shallow enough that it only reached his waist at its deepest point. So it was easy for him to duck behind the foamy base of the falls and haul himself up onto the slippery stone just behind it, eyes widening. Behind the waterfall was a secret, secluded place, a little cave eroded into the black rock by centuries of pounding water.

“Best hiding place,” Lance declared, getting to his feet and looking around. The cave was just tall enough for him to stand upright, and was about two Lances deep and one Lance wide. There was one very smooth wall and one wall with a ridge eroded into it, just wide enough for him to sit on, and wait. 

He was waiting for a while, and had actually started to drift off; lulled by the sound of the cascading water, when there was a distinct splash from outside. Lance jolted upright, holding his breath. There was another splash, then another, and then a muttered curse and –

Then the waterfall parted and Keith was standing there, drenched and irritated, shoulders slumping in unspoken relief when he saw Lance. “Finally,” he said, throwing up his hands. “You’re the last one, congrats, you won.”

Lance smirked. “Pretty good hiding place, hm?”

Keith frowned. “I couldn’t pick up your scent because of all the water. I was worried that…” He trailed off. “Whatever. Let’s go back, everyone’s waiting back at the falls.”

“You were worried about me?” Lance cooed, stepping closer. “Aw, Keith, you’re so sweet.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Keith grumbled. “So sweet. Are you coming or not?”

“Doesn’t the winner get a prize?” Lance asked, batting his eyelashes. 

“That’s not how Hide and Seek works,” Keith said, but his breath hitched when Lance tilted his head down to him, lips parted. “Seriously. You…right here. In this… _weird cave_.”

“What can I say,” Lance said, “I like the water.”

Slowly, Keith climbed up into the cave, shaking his head, yelping when Lance pushed him lightly, sending him stumbling back onto the smooth ledge. Keith sat down heavily, and Lance followed him down.

They sat upon the ledge together, kissing languidly, as slick and strong as the falls that hid them from the rest of the world. Keith’s mouth opened easily to him, and Lance traced sharp fangs with his tongue, burying his hands in Keith’s wet hair and shuffling halfway into his lap. Keith’s breath hitched, his hand sliding under the drenched fabric of Lance’s shirt and settling on the small of his back.

Lance shifted against him, his own hand palming over the bulge in Keith’s pants, the outline of his cock clearly visible under the thin wet cloth. Keith’s fangs grazed his lip and he startled away from Lance, flushed. “I can’t fuck you,” he said, stilling Lance’s wrist. “It’s only been a few days and –”

“I know, shh, bat boy,” Lance said, blinking innocently. “Just chill out, ‘kay? I wanna try something.”

Keith eyed him, pupils blown wide with arousal and cock hardening further under Lance’s hand. “Okay…?”

Lance grinned reassuringly at him and then dropped to his knees on the damp stone, nudging Keith’s legs apart. Keith inhaled sharply. Lance’s face was level with his cock, and his hand kept moving over it, shaping it through the fabric. He leaned forward and mouthed at the head, tasting salt and heat that made his own dick perk up. Keith leaned back against the stone and watched him, lips parted. 

“Been wanting to do this for forever,” Lance sighed, hands wandering to the waistband of his pants and edging them down, moving back so Keith could kick them off. His cock was barely contained by his gray briefs, the heavy swell of his balls straining the fabric nearly as much as the thick arc of his cock, which peeked obscenely over the waistband. Lance giggled at the sight and licked at the shiny head, trapped under the strip of elastic. “You need bigger underwear,” Lance informed him. “These are ridiculous.”

“Your face is ridiculous,” Keith muttered, voice unsteady. Lance laughed again and lifted up the elastic, working the ruined briefs down and narrowly avoiding getting smacked in the face with a dick. As it was, it brushed against his chin as it sprung free, well on its way to fully hard, the tip starting to leak clear globules of what Keith had once said was called serek, aka The Galra Sex Drug that Changed Lance’s Life. 

In gratitude, he licked said globules off with slow, long laps of his tongue, which started to tingle immediately. Keith hissed, hips trembling under Lance’s hands. Lance had the pleasure of feeling Keith harden under his tongue. God, Keith’s Galra cock was one of the Seven Wonders of the Universe as far as Lance was concerned – it was thick enough that Lance’s hand barely fit around it, and so sensitive that it twitched and leaked with every swipe of his tongue and brush of his lips. 

There was something distinctly inhuman about it, in its size and slight violet tinge, in the sticky liquid it leaked that made Lance’s cock strain in his jeans and made his mouth warm and pliant, opening his jaw and throat wider to wrap his lips around the wide head and make Keith gasp incoherently. And of course there was the knot, swelling at the base little by little, feeling harder than the rest of it under Lance’s curious fingers.

Keith made a strangled noise and Lance pulled off briefly. “Does it hurt?” he asked, pushing lightly at the knot and watching the way Keith’s face screwed up in what could have been pain or pleasure. 

“It – it’s sensitive,” Keith managed, head thudding back against the rock. “Fuck, fuck, it feels good, Lance, it feels. Really good. Don’t stop.”

“Cool,” Lance said, grinning, and went back down on his cock, sucking in earnest and rubbing at the knot with his thumb and forefinger, fascinated by how that made Keith’s cock harden faster, spilling more sweet serek into his mouth and down his throat. Lance was pretty sure he’d never ingested this much Galra Sex Drug before and hoped it wasn’t possible to, like, overdose. He didn’t feel like he was overdosing – he just felt hopelessly turned on, squirming forward to get friction against Keith’s leg, moaning around Keith’s cock when he found it. Keith’s hips jerked up and Lance almost choked, eyes watering and fingers squeezing hard around the knot. 

Keith groaned and then his hand was in Lance’s hair, and he was trying desperately not to pull – Lance could feel the tension in his hands, flexing and unflexing, claws barely contained. Lance closed his eyes and tried to find his inner zen. He gave himself a mental pep talk. He thought about how Keith would react. Then, taking a deep breath in through his nose, he sank down on the rest of Keith’s cock in a long, single slide, until his nose was buried in the dark hair at the base and Keith was hissing out incoherent curses, hips trembling as he struggled not to move. 

Lance swallowed around the head of his cock, which felt like it was halfway down his throat, but Lance was not a quitter, okay, and he’d already come this far. Keith moaned loudly and Lance felt the knot swell against his lips, felt Keith’s pulse beat unevenly within it as Keith’s hands tightened in his hair. Lance reached up, grabbing a handful of Keith’s ass, and tugged forward. Keith’s hips stuttered. 

“Lance –” he gritted out. 

Lance’s jaw was aching. He didn’t care. He tugged again, forcing Keith to move forward. 

“You want me to fuck your mouth?” Keith asked, sounding wrecked. Lance opened his eyes and looked up at him. Keith stared back down, wild-eyed, chest heaving. Lance blinked once and bobbed his head in what hopefully looked like a nod. Keith probably got the message, because he threw his head back and arched, thrusting into Lance’s mouth and holding his head in place, lower lip caught between his teeth. 

Lance opened up to it, and fuck; his throat burned and his jaw was already sore but that was hard to focus on with the heavy thickness of Keith’s cock rocking past his lips, stuffing his mouth full and forcing its way into his throat as Keith’s hips moved in short, sharp thrusts. Keith was loud above him, making pitchy moans and soft grunts and strange, animal growls that followed the sting of his claws on Lance’s scalp as he shoved him down further. Lance gagged, tears trickling down his face as he struggled to breathe, spit filling his mouth as he salivated helplessly in response to the serek, sweet strawberry tang clouding his mind and narrowing his focus to nothing but Keith. 

Keith’s fingers tangled sharply in his hair and his hips bucked, cutting off Lance’s air entirely. Lance scrabbled at his thighs, and knew he should have been afraid, should have tried to escape, but all he could do was whimper around Keith’s cock until he drew back enough for Lance to breathe. When he did inhale, it was the scent of Keith’s arousal; hot, thick male musk, a mix of sweat and sex that was almost as dizzying as the serek. Drool was dripping from his mouth and covering his chin and he was pretty sure he was going to be hoarse as hell after this, but it was worth it for the sound Keith made when he came, a broken cry, knot inflating as his cock pulsed come down Lance’s throat. Lance clung to his hips and took it, swallowing obediently and only stopping when Keith pushed him back, still coming and shuddering through the aftershocks as he splattered the rocks with white.

Lance was panting shallowly, drawing in gulps of air and staying on the ground, coughing and wiping a hand over his mouth. Keith slumped where he sat on the ledge, body shining with sweat and mist from the waterfall. Lance looked at him hazily, serek still coursing through his system, unable to look at anything but his mate’s cock still standing up between his legs, slicked with come, knot fully expanded and throbbing. 

“You wanted to knot me,” Lance said, and holy shit, was that his voice? It sounded like he’d just smoked a pack of cigarettes. Keith groaned, looking down at him with slitted eyes. “And you call me the slut.”

Keith groaned helplessly. “Lance,” he said, like he’d forgotten all other words. “Lance.”

Lance got to his feet, wobbly but confident, and saw Keith’s yellow eyes track his movements; saw the dart of his tongue as he licked his lips. Lance tugged his shirt up and over his head, and yeah, okay, the higher dose of serek was definitely affecting him more. His skin was awash with heat, and his nipples were hard and peaked from more than the cool air. He felt like he was going to die if he didn’t get out of his jeans, and when he did he stumbled forward, drawn to Keith like a magnet, so hard he could barely walk. “I want my prize now,” he murmured. 

“Lance,” Keith said again, pupils dilated, legs widening to accommodate him. “You’re so –”

Lance yanked his underwear off, practically falling on top of Keith, into his lap, their dicks bumping together. Keith swore, squirming under him, and gasped when Lance took ahold of his cock, squeezing the knot mercilessly. “Sensitive?” Lance asked, low in his ear, and Keith’s nails dug into his shoulders. “Oh, yeah, you are. What d’you want?”

Keith growled, overwhelmed, and wordlessly grabbed Lance’s wrist, guiding it down until his fingers pressed against Keith’s hole. Lance buried his face in Keith’s hair, increasing the pressure until they breached him and –

Lance drew back and gaped at him. “You’re wet,” he said. “You’re – how –”

Keith’s hips tilted up to him. “Don’t know,” he gasped, “don’t know, I just want it, I want you; it happened before, on the ship –”

Lance thought back to opening the door to Keith’s room, being slammed onto the bed by him, afraid that Keith was going too fast and then feeling he had already prepared himself. But…it hadn’t been lube. Keith _wanted_ him, wanted him so badly that his Galra side had apparently decided to speed things up. 

Swearing, Lance pushed two fingers into him and Keith moaned, his hole sucking in Lance’s fingers hungrily, alien slickness coating them as Lance stretched him open. Lance felt like he had a fever; he was sweating and his head was spinning and Keith was utterly pliant, writhing on the stone and arching his back. And it was a total mindfuck, because Keith was in Full Galra mode again, purple mottling his skin in relentless flickers of color, claws scratching across the stone, fangs digging into his lower lip and eyes gleaming gold. But gone was the dominant creature from four days ago. 

_What makes you think I want to be rough with you?_

Lance had wanted him to be rough. But Keith just wanted to be close to him, to make Lance his and give himself to Lance in any way he could. This was Keith at his basest level; humanity stripped away and primal instincts driving him completely. And when it came down to it, all he wanted was Lance. 

Lance couldn’t refuse him that.

Keith made a terrifying sound when Lance entered him fully, somewhere between a snarl and a shriek, head rolling back and legs hitching up around Lance’s waist, clawed hands scrabbling at his back with pricks of pain that were pretty easy to ignore with Keith tight and hot and _so wet_ around his cock. “Fuck,” Lance breathed, and Keith mouthed and licked messily at his neck, hips bucking, forcing him deeper. The position was awkward – Lance was hunched over and Keith was half-slipping against the wet rock shelf – but Lance couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be. 

“Lance, Lance, Lance,” Keith was crooning, a low constant, moaning deep in his throat when Lance found just the right angle. His voice really didn’t sound human the more he said it, growly and rough and weirdly accented, but it wasn’t exactly turning Lance off. He shoved a hand into Keith’s hair, scratching his fingers over his ears and across his scalp, and Keith shuddered and leaned into it, flushed, eyes half-lidded and mouth fallen open, fangs on display.

“Jesus, you’re so hot,” Lance told him, and Keith fucking purred in his ear, hitching his legs up around Lance’s waist and dragging him somehow closer, his dick pressed between their bellies, still knotted. Despite the urgency of the serek inside of him, Lance fucked him slowly, the way Keith liked, running his hands over Keith’s body and marveling that he got to have this. Keith responded to every touch, eyes glazed over and spine bowing under Lance’s palms, thighs spread wide and shameless, flexing around Lance’s hips. 

“Still wanna show me off?” Lance asked, half-laughing.

Keith hummed affirmatively, nosing at Lance’s shoulder and panting into it, arms draped around Lance’s neck and body leaning into Lance’s like he could barely sit up. “Always, always,” Keith mumbled, “you’re mine, mine, mine, _Lance_ –”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance gasped, and came in a long, hot pulse inside him with a really embarrassing sound. 

“Mmm,” Keith said, his cock softening between them, looking utterly drained yet undeniably satisfied. His yellow eyes blinked sleepily and he slumped into Lance’s chest. Lance could not handle how adorable that was. 

But the serek hadn’t run its course and Lance knew it wouldn’t be long before round two. He nudged Keith. “Hey, bat boy…if you wanna nap maybe you should head back to the others. I don’t wanna hurt –”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Keith said, heaving himself upright with effort, yellow eyes narrowing. “I got you in this mess; I’ll get you out of it.”

Lance huffed and ran his fingers through Keith’s hair, shifting his hips as his cock started to harden again. Keith was still wet. “Wow. What a noble sacrifice you’re making.”

“I know,” Keith snorted, “I’m really – _ah_ – suffering.”

“I can tell,” Lance said seriously. He rolled his hips again and Keith’s lashes fluttered, and God, he was so beautiful, and Lance had to say it. “I love you so much.”

Keith whimpered and wound his arms tighter around Lance’s neck. “Yeah,” he said, overwhelmed. “Love you too. So much.”

It took a while before they made it back. 

*

“There it is again,” Hunk said, peering into the trees. “It sounds like tigers, I’m telling you!”

“It’s not tigers,” Pidge said flatly. 

“How do you know?” Hunk pressed. “Lance is still out there, and Keith is…” He blanched. 

“Not tigers,” Pidge repeated. 

“I can’t believe we waited for them,” Hunk groaned, putting his head in his hands. 

“I never knew Galra had such an impressive vocal range,” Coran remarked, studying his jar full of weird frogs.

Pidge silently handed Hunk a pair of headphones.

*

When they returned to the palace, they were both sore and sleepy. All throughout dinner, Keith looked at Lance through his lashes, smiling faintly, so out of it that Shiro had to repeat himself three times when he asked Keith if he was okay.

“Yes,” Keith said, blinking slowly with a very un-Keithlike expression of absolute contentment on his face. “I’m good. Really good.”

Shiro blinked back in bewilderment. “Oh, well…good. I’m glad.” He glanced at Lance as if to say, _What did you do with Keith Kogane’s broody self?_

Lance looked at him innocently and continued eating. Keith was holding his hand under the table. Lance’s stomach was full of butterflies. Near the end of the meal, Keith yawned and let his head fall onto Lance’s shoulder. The butterflies exploded into glorious rainbows of joy.

Allura dropped her fork. Everyone looked mildly shocked. Hunk shook his head at Lance in disbelief. Pidge seemed positively delighted, and went to grab their camera. 

Lance kissed the top of his head casually and Keith purred.

By the time the camera flashed, he was asleep.

*

On the last day of their stay on Mautari, Keith started acting really weird. 

He kept running off with excuses that didn’t make sense, sneaking around and looking suspicious, and changing the topic when Lance asked him about any of it. Lance tried to convince himself it was nothing and busied himself with cleaning their room, making the bed and washing all the towels and clothes they’d borrowed. He kept the objects he’d found in the nightstand drawer, though…maybe the next people who stayed here would have just as much fun with them. 

By noon, Keith was still nowhere to be found, so Lance went to hang out with Hunk and Pidge instead. Hunk was cooking up a storm in the huge royal kitchens, trying to make the most of “actual food” before they were stuck in space with green goop again. He let Lance steal some cookies that tasted like almonds, and in return Lance helped him make pies for an hour or two. When Hunk shooed him away, Lance found Pidge messing with what looked like a theater room of some kind, fiddling with various knobs until images flickered across the several large screens on the walls. They watched the Mautari version of a movie, which was weird but oddly entertaining – a lot of wide landscape shots overlaid with haunting, chiming music interspersed with clicking sounds that must have been their form of language. 

But there were no shots of Mautarians themselves, or dragons, which was a little disappointing. Pidge made up for that when they showed Lance their photos, though – they had a little Polaroid from Earth, Lance remembered them buying it on one of their rare excursions out of the Garrison, along with a few packs of film. Both of them knew that sooner or later, the film was going to run out, but for now they looked through the pictures together on the floor, spread out in front of them, a collage of their time in space. 

One of the first pictures was of Keith and Lance, laughing, Lance’s hand on Keith’s shoulder. Lance touched the corner with a fingertip. “I remember this,” he said. “This was back on Arus, at the celebration before…”

“Yeah,” Pidge said quietly. “Before shit went down.” They sighed and then chuckled. “You know, Keith really did cradle you in his arms.”

Lance laughed, startled. “Really? I thought he was just being a jerk about it.”

“Nope. He was…pretty upset. We all were, obviously, but.” Pidge nudged his shoulder. “You guys really love each other, don’t you?”

Lance nodded. “It’s kind of stupid how much I love him.”

Pidge patted his knee. “You guys are lucky. For what it’s worth, I hope you stay together for as long as possible.”

“Me too,” he said. “It didn’t go so well the last time we broke up.”

“He cradled you in his arms then, too,” Pidge said.

“I know,” Lance mumbled. He was looking at the last three pictures. The first was of Keith and Lance dressed in Altean finery, clinking glasses at a fancy Sylphaen gala they’d attended six months ago. The second was a slightly blurry photo of them sparring against the training droid, faces pinched in concentration as they attacked it together. And the third one was Keith asleep on Lance’s shoulder. It was perfectly in focus. 

“Keep them,” Pidge said, pushing the three photos towards Lance. 

“Thanks,” Lance replied, carefully pocketing them. “I’ll look for film for you, next time we go to a market.”

Pidge smiled at him. “You better.”

*

Lance went back to the room and was surprised to see a little note pinned on the door, written in a messy black scrawl.

_L –_

_change into clothes on bed. find shiro._

_– K_

There was a little lopsided heart beside the K. 

Lance covered his mouth. “No fucking way,” he whispered. He pushed open the door, bracing himself for what might be waiting on the bed…but it was just a pair of plain blue shorts, a gray T-shirt, and his new green jacket. Confused, Lance changed into them, wracking his brain for what this might be. He came up blank. 

So Lance went to find Shiro.

*

Shiro’s room was several halls away. Lance knocked hesitantly, and Shiro opened it with an infuriatingly innocent expression. “Hello?” he said. “Can I help you, Lance?”

Lance held up the note. “I don’t suppose you’d know anything about this?”

Shiro was trying not to smile. “I may have some idea,” he said, and then, with a flourish, produced a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. Lance gawked at them, and then at him. Shiro gave up trying not to smile. “He picked them this morning. For you.”

Stunned, Lance took the flowers. “Um. Wow.” This was…a lot. Lance had never received flowers before. And they smelled really good, and Keith had managed to find the prettiest flowers Lance had ever seen – huge violet roses and bioluminescent lilies and a colorful array of wildflowers of every shape and size imaginable.

“There’s another note in there,” Shiro added, nodding to the bouquet. 

Lance carefully fished the little piece of parchment out from between the flower stalks. 

_L –_

_i tried to find flowers the color of your eyes, but none were as beautiful as you are._

_find allura. hint: look for the royal chairs._

_– K_

“Royal chairs?” Lance echoed. 

“Synonyms, Lance,” Shiro replied, and closed the door. 

Lance paused. “Thrones?” Then, with confidence, “The throne room!”

He heard Shiro laughing on the other side of the door as he dashed off, clutching the flowers to his chest.

*

Lance found the throne room after several feverish minutes of searching, and stopped in his tracks when he saw Allura sitting on one of the three thrones at the head of the room, reading a book and looking up with quirked lips when he walked in. 

She was very regal, as regal as Lance had ever seen her, and he approached nervously, fighting the strange urge to bow. “Took you long enough,” she said lightly. “My, that is a lot of flowers.”

“Yeah,” Lance said, mildly embarrassed. “It sure is.”

Her eyes softened. “Human courtship is actually quite similar to Altean courtship, you know. All these gifts and games. Though they usually occur earlier in the relationship.” 

“We kind of skipped the courtship phase,” Lance mumbled. 

Allura shook her head fondly. “You two courted with glares and feigned insults long before you even knew you were doing so. Though I do prefer this, I must say.” She stood and left the dais, extending her open hands to Lance. In her palms rested a circlet made of seashells, all polished and gleaming like pearls in the gold light. There were bits of blue and red coral alongside golden conches, striped whelks, gleaming cat’s eyes, spotted cockles, elegant scallops, and shells Lance had no name for. The larger shells were dipped in some kind of silver glitter.

It was ridiculous, but it was also gorgeous.

“What’s this about?” Lance squeaked.

Allura smiled and put the crown on his head, then handed him the next note.

_L –_

_you’re my prince in shining blue armor._

_find pidge._

_– K_

Lance was not strong enough for this. “How…how many of these are there?” he managed.

“One for each of us,” Allura said, waving him off. “Go, Lance. He’s waiting for you.”

“Do you know where Pidge is?” Lance asked.

“Try the last place you saw them,” Allura said, picking up her book again.

*

Lance returned to the theater room. Sure enough, Pidge was still there, listening to more Mautarian music while apparently hacking into the system, judging by the endless lines of white symbols appearing rapidly on the screen.

“Uh…Pidge?”

Pidge spun around in their chair. “Oh hell yes,” they crowed at the sight of Lance’s crown and bouquet. “He actually did it.”

Lance huffed. “Do you have something for me or not?”

“Do I ever. Catch.” Pidge tossed something small and square through the air, and Lance fumbled, almost dropping it. It was a little book, pocket-sized, with a blue cover. Lance looked at Pidge questioningly. “Oh, just open it,” Pidge said, turning slightly pink.

Intrigued, Lance did, and almost dropped it again. 

There were more Polaroids. It was…it was a photo album, filled with Polaroids.

“Keith beat you to the film,” Pidge explained. “He found some for me months ago and practically begged me to use it so he could make this.”

Lance flipped through it numbly, his head spinning. There were photos in there from the Sylphe palace; that was how long Keith had been planning this. All photos of them, smiling, kissing, holding hands, sitting together, standing together, _being together._ Then Lance reached the last few pages. There were three empty spaces.

“The photos I gave you,” Pidge said. “You can put them in there, too.”

“Do you…do you have glue?” Lance asked, taking the photos out of his pocket and swallowing back the lump in his throat. Pidge nodded and handed over a stick, and he carefully pasted the last three photos into the last three pages. There was a note tucked between the very last page and the back cover.

_L –_

_pidge said it was kind of creepy but i wanted to remember us. i hope you do too._

_find hunk._

_– K_

“Thanks for taking creepy pictures of us,” Lance said thickly. “I. I really appreciate it, Pidge.”

“Anything for the most disgustingly cute couple I know,” Pidge retorted, but they were smiling. 

*

Lance walked into the kitchen. Hunk was sitting at the table, waiting very obviously, and looked up as soon as Lance walked in, wide-eyed and eager.

“Dude,” Lance said, voice all wobbly. “I think I’m dying of happiness.”

Hunk beamed at him and stood up. “I’m sorry I kicked you out of the kitchen earlier, but now you know why.” He pointed to a plate on the table, upon which was a pastelito. “I gave him some tips so he didn’t burn the palace down, but Keith made it himself. There’s more in the fridge for you, for later.”

“Dude,” Lance repeated. “What…I…Keith _cooked_ for me?”

“I thought the world was ending, too,” Hunk agreed. “He asked me what your favorite dessert from back home was and I gave him the recipe. Go ahead, it’s for you.”

Lance set down the flowers, picked up the pastelito, and took a bite. It tasted really fucking good. It almost tasted like the pastelitos his Mama used to make, except the filling was that fruit that tasted just like strawberries. Lance felt suddenly like crying. “Dude,” he whispered, and set the pastelito down, completely overwhelmed. 

“Aw, Lance,” Hunk murmured, and hugged him tightly, rubbing his back. “It’s okay.”

“He’s so…so…” Lance hiccupped. 

“Hey, shh. I know.” Hunk squeezed his shoulder and stepped away, smiling. “I had my doubts about him at first, but…I’m really happy for you guys, Lance.”

“Pffft, stop,” Lance said weakly, flapping a hand at him and grabbing the note up from the plate. 

_L –_

_i’m no cook but i’ll do anything for you._

_find coran._

_– K_

“He’s on the flight deck,” Hunk supplied. 

Lance tucked the note in his pocket along with the album and the other notes. He finished the pastelito in three bites, his heart aching, torn between a big blue planet and a pair of bright violet eyes. 

*

The Castle of Lions was eerie when it was empty, and Lance walked down the silent white hall quickly, glancing around for any rogue training droids or feisty cryo pods. But of course there were none, only the sound of his own footsteps and, if he listened hard enough, the low hum of Blue’s energy calling to him. There was something else too, another similar yet distinctly different mechanical hum, and Lance thought it might be Red. He’d never heard her before, and he didn’t know what it meant to hear her now. 

He found Coran on the flight deck, sure enough, checking over the controls and singing a little ditty to himself. Lance rapped on the wall and Coran turned, grinning genially. “Lance, my boy!” he greeted. “I see you’ve found the others already. Keith did tell me I was the last.”

“The last?”

“Oh, well, except for him, of course. Here you are.”

Coran handed him something soft, dark, and furry. Lance blinked down at it. It was...it was a… 

“A bat,” Lance said dumbly. It was a little stuffed bat, no bigger than a Beanie Baby, with floppy purple wings, ears, and feet, and a lavender head and body. It was clearly handmade, with large stitches down the front, big yellow felt eyes, a pink felt nose, and white felt fangs. “He literally made me a bat.”

“Indeed he did,” Coran said. “It’s, er…a unique creature, to be sure. The mice and I helped him with the stitching and materials…they may have ripped up one of Allura’s old coats, but that’s hardly important.”

“How…how long did it take him to make this? When the heck did he make this?!”

Coran chuckled. “Oh, it was on again, off again for the last two months, I believe. Why do you ask?”

“That perfect _jerk_ ,” Lance sniffled. 

Coran was confused. “Are you…displeased with the gift?”

“No, no, just…just give me the note,” Lance said, tucking the stuffed bat into his jacket pocket. Its huge ears poked out the top. 

Coran handed the note over. 

_L –_

_i’m sew sorry. get it? he’s pretty ugly but you always manage to see the best in people._

_find your bat boy. hint: follow the mice._

_– K_

There was a trio of chirps behind him. Lance turned and saw the mice running back the way he’d come, stopping and chirping insistently again. “Goodnight, Lance,” Coran said. “And have fun.”

“Goodnight, and thanks, Coran,” Lance replied, and started after the mice. 

*

They led him down through the dark underbrush and into the night, away from the Aurelia and the Castle, and Lance realized they were headed towards the cliffs…towards the sea. His heart leapt and he scrambled down the rocky slope after the mice. “How did he rope you guys into this?” he asked. They chirped equivocally. “Fine, fine, it’s a secret.”

It was a little difficult to get down the hill with a bouquet of flowers in his arms, but Lance made it down to the cliff in one piece, guided by the light of the huge Mautarian moon. The mice chirped at him, all waiting by a path worn into the rock. There was a note stuck to the rocks beside it, along with a flashlight.

_L –_

_be careful. i love you._

_find me at the fire._

_– K_

The mice chattered excitedly. Lance took the note and nodded to them. “I appreciate the escort, guys. Hurry back to Coran before he starts to worry, ‘kay?”

The mice ran around his feet and then bounded back up the way they’d come, towards the white dome of the Castle and the dark peak of the Aurelia. Lance, with a deep breath, continued down the path to the beach. It was really dark despite the moonlight, and Lance was grateful from the flashlight, keeping well away from the edge. It was a long drop. 

The night was cool, a faint breeze brushing across his skin, and yet warm enough that he wasn’t chilly in shorts. Lance wanted to look up at the sky but was afraid of tripping like an idiot and falling off the side of a cliff before finding Keith. And that was just out of the question. 

Lance saw the fire when the path turned a sharp corner, revealing a hidden cove, a strip of beach hidden from prying eyes by a towering semicircle of cliffs and tall trees atop them. The fire was built near the middle of the beach, and Lance’s stomach did a little flip when he saw the silhouette sitting beside it, alone on the beach, gazing out at the water. 

Caution thrown to the winds, Lance hurried down to the shore, half-leaping off the cliff path and onto the glittering black sand. Another time, he might have tried to sneak up on Keith, but Lance just wanted to kiss him already. He ran across the beach, knowing he must have looked beyond silly, with the flowers hugged to his chest and the bat peeking out of his pocket and the seashell crown perched on his head, but he didn’t actually care. 

Keith tensed when Lance got within a hundred feet, ears pricking up and eyes flaring gold as he turned, somehow entirely unprepared for Lance to launch himself at him and proceed to kiss the living daylights out of him. Lance almost forgot to let go of the flowers before they were crushed beyond repair between them, but luckily he remembered just before impact and they survived mostly unscathed. The flashlight was not so lucky.

Keith made a muffled noise against his lips, squirming against the sand and pawing at his chest, and Lance broke the kiss reluctantly. “What?”

“You just tackled me,” Keith said, flushed. 

“I did,” Lance said. “That’s what you get for all…this.” He gestured wildly around them.  
Keith bit his lip. “Do you…did you like it?”

Lance made a sound of outrage and kissed him again. 

“I’ll take that as a yes?” Keith said in a small, bemused voice when they broke apart to breathe. 

Lance sat back and stared at him. “You really don’t know,” he said, awed. “You’re amazing, Keith, seriously. I don’t…you’ve been planning this for months?”

“Yes,” Keith said, turning redder. “I…after what happened on Silese’s ship, when you finally woke up…do you remember when I promised I’d take you on the best date ever?”

“Oh my god,” Lance whispered.

“Yeah, so this is my, uh, attempt at…that. L-lance? Lance, are you…um.”

Lance had pulled him upright and was hugging him. Keith awkwardly patted his shoulder and then something seemed to sunder in him, and he hugged back, his ears and hair soft against Lance’s cheek, his nose cold and his lips very, very warm. “Thank you,” Lance whispered. “For…for everything. Not just this. For everything, Keith.”

Keith kissed his cheek in silent reply. Lance wanted to remember how Keith felt in his arms in that moment for the rest of his life. When they let go, they still stayed close, and Keith took his hand gently, their fingers interlocking. “The crown suits you,” he said, his smile a soft crescent moon in the long, flickering shadows of the fire. “My blue prince.” He kissed Lance’s hand.

Equally somberly, Lance took the bat from his pocket and put it on Keith’s head. “My bat boy.”

Keith snorted, going cross-eyed from looking up at it. “I’m ashamed of that thing. My felting skills leave much to be desired.”

“Well, I think it’s cute,” Lance said, grinning and snatching it back. 

“You would,” Keith teased. 

“Your baking skills, though,” Lance said, getting all choked up again. “Those are…something else.”

Keith squeezed his hand hopefully. “They were good?”

“I almost cried, you jerk,” Lance admitted. “They were great.” He exhaled unsteadily. “When we go home, you can make them with my Mama. She’ll love you automatically when she finds out you can make pastelitos.”

“I’d like that,” Keith murmured. “I’d like that a lot.”

“I like you a lot,” Lance said helplessly. 

“Mm.” Keith kissed the tip of his nose. “I like you a lot, too.”

Lance stared dreamily into his eyes for a few seconds. Then,

“I can’t believe you enlisted Pidge to be our paparazzi. How did you even convince them in the first place?”

Keith laughed. “I may have bribed them with a blood sample or two. You know how obsessed Pidge is with aliens and figuring shit out. Besides, it might be helpful to Voltron, who knows.”

“Babe, that’s hardcore,” Lance said.

“I do what I must,” Keith replied, heaving a dramatic sigh. 

“Right. Anything for me, didn’t you say?”

Keith cringed. “Please tell me you’re not keeping all those notes.”

“I’m keeping them forever and always,” Lance retorted. “They belong in an art museum.”

“If you frame them I will die of mortification.”

“If I frame them then everyone will know that Keith Kogane is really just a big, sentimental softie at heart,” Lance corrected. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

“I think the entire team is already painfully aware of that,” Keith said. “Shiro watched me pick flowers.”

“And they’re wonderful,” Lance added. “It’s nice to be on the receiving end of flowers for once.”

Keith smiled. “Yeah?”

Lance plucked one of the flowers off its stem and stuck it behind Keith’s ear. “Yeah. I’m getting you flowers someday too, just you wait.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Keith turned away slightly, and Lance saw there was a blanket laid out beside him, with a spread of food on it and a bottle of wine, or the Mautarian equivalent. There was a fresh loaf of buttered bread, kebabs with what looked like fish and chicken, and a bowl of what Lance was pretty sure was chocolate. “But in the meantime…I brought dinner.”

“Food and the ocean? God, you know me so well, bat boy.” Lance grabbed a piece of bread, which was still warm, practically melting in his mouth. 

When he was done with the bread, Keith handed him the bottle of wine. “I forgot glasses.”

“Oops,” Lance said, and took a big swig.

Keith drank after him, nibbling on his own bread. They looked up at the sky together as they ate and drank, sitting with their sides pressed together, Keith’s knees against Lance’s thigh. The night sky was clear, free of light pollution or any pollution at all, an ocean of stars and planets. They could even see the wide, glittering strand of the Milky Way, a nebula of distant light, a gateway to other worlds. Earth was somewhere up there, far away…but there. 

Somewhere.

“Do you think we’ll ever make it back to Earth?” Lance asked after his third drink.

Keith wrapped an arm around his waist. “I hope so.”

“That’s not really an answer, bat boy.”

Keith sighed. “Eventually? Yeah. I think we will, someday.”

“When we’re old and gray?” 

Keith shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe sooner. Maybe…maybe eons from now.”

“Eons? But how...”

“There’s this saying,” Keith murmured. “I…I don’t know where it comes from, and I don’t know who told it to me, but it’s just kind of been with me as long as I can remember. _We are the stars and the stars are us; ashes to atoms and dust to stardust._ ”

Lance looked at him, and saw the stars reflected in his eyes, tiny twin galaxies. “What does that mean?”

“It means we’ll all return to space someday,” Keith replied, and it shouldn’t have been a comforting thought, but from him, it was. “We might even return to Earth, in some form or another.”

“When we die, you mean.”

“When we die, yes.” 

Lance closed his eyes and leaned against Keith. “You know, I’m not really afraid of death. I’m more afraid of the people I’d leave behind.”

“Once I wasn’t afraid of death and I had no one to leave behind,” Keith said after a beat. “But now…I know what you mean.”

Lance laughed quietly. “Kind of a morbid talk for the best date ever.” 

“Morbid?” Keith shook his head. “It’s important. We put ourselves in danger every day.”

“Not today, though,” Lance said. “Not right now.”

“No,” Keith agreed. “Right now, we have this.”

Keith tasted like wine and home. 

They fed the kebabs to each other in between sips, Keith’s fingers warm and calloused on Lance’s lips. It was intimate in a different way, almost domestic. Familiar. Somewhere along the line they ended up off the sand and on the new nest of blankets Keith had created on the beach, finishing off the bottle and letting it fall to the sand, along with the crown and the flowers and the bat and the album. Lance loved every gift, but the best gift of them all was lying beside him, holding him close.

“What happens when the tide comes in?” Lance asked.

“Maybe it will carry us away,” Keith replied.

“Or maybe we’ll just get soaked and covered in alien seaweed,” Lance said.

Keith chuckled and closed his eyes. “As long as we’re together, right?”

Lance curled closer to him, shivering from a sudden stab of cold. “Maybe the tide won’t reach us anyway.”

“We are the stars,” Keith murmured indistinctly. “You’re my star, Lance.”

Lance kissed his purple-speckled forehead and tugged another blanket over them. “Goodnight, bat boy,” he said.

**Author's Note:**

> Some of these are filthy and I'm sorry.
> 
> querido (darling/dear one)  
> mi amor, mi vida, mi cielo (my love, my life, my sky)  
> gordito (little fat one)  
> te necesito (I need you)  
> carajo (fuck/general Cuban expletive)  
> Ya cógeme (Fuck me/take me already)  
> Ahora (now)  
> Sé un chico bueno (Be a good boy)  
> coño (general Cuban expletive)  
> ¿Te gusta eso? (You like that?)  
> te quiero mucho (I want you so much)  
> me vuelves loco (you drive me crazy)  
> eres mi todo (you are my everything)  
> Ponlo en mi culo, cabrón, (put it in my ass, bastard/fucker/asshole)  
> Dulces sueños (sweet dreams)  
> pinche mierda (fucking shit)  
> pastelito (super delicious Cuban pastries)
> 
> Also, this is completely coincidental but it makes me happy - apparently bats symbolize good luck and health in Cuban and Catalonian culture. No wonder Lance is so drawn to them :)


End file.
